Then came the distinct thud of Chloe’s leather boots crossing the hardwood floor toward the bay window nook.

Toby’s quiet voice cut through the chatter at the table.

“Please don’t step on my drawing, Chloe.”

The audio picked up the sharp, repeated crunch of thick watercolor paper tearing under a heavy heel.

“Look at this total mess,” Chloe whined loudly.

“He leaves his garbage all over the bench.”

I rested my thumb lightly on the inside of my wrist, checking my steady pulse against the rhythm coming from the speakers.

“Valerie, teach your brat not to get under people’s feet,” Brenda’s voice cut across the table, loud and sharp.