The table was set without ceremony—just plates, water glasses, and the soft weight of roasted vegetables steaming faintly in the center. For the first time in months, no one was bent over a glowing screen. Olivia and Claire sat upright, talking to each other instead of to their phones, forks making small sounds against ceramic.
Patricia noticed. Her silver brows lifted, and the corners of her mouth curved in a smile that was part astonishment, part pride. “No phones tonight?” she said lightly, carving into the roast chicken as if the question were casual.
“Dad asked us to put them away,” Claire said before Ethan could answer. “It’s fine. We’ve been… busy anyway.”
“Busy?” Patricia’s tone warmed with curiosity.
“Working,” Olivia said, and there was no apology in it—only a trace of excite
