Nobody spoke for the rest of the meal except for the steady scrape of forks against plates.

By ten that night, the house was dark and silent except for the small nightlight burning in the hallway outside Leo’s room.

Julian was lying on his left side on his half of our mattress, breathing slow and heavy against his pillow.

I pushed the fleece blanket aside and walked barefoot across the bedroom rug to his small office nook in the corner of the room.

The wooden floorboards felt icy under my feet.