Mara
“Open the door, Mara. I know you’re home.”
I froze with my hand on the sink, dish soap slick and cold between my fingers.
Lily was in the living room, humming to herself while she colored, legs tucked under her like the world was still simple. I didn’t turn around. I didn’t breathe. I didn’t move.
The knock came again. Harder. Familiar.
“I’m not here to fight,” Evan said through the door. “I just want to talk.”
That was how it always started. Not with apologies. Not with responsibility. With want.
I wiped my hands on a towel and walked toward the door, each step controlled, deliberate, like if I moved wrong the whole damn thing would collapse. I glanced back at Lily.
“Sweetheart,” I said quietly. “Go to your room for a minute, okay.”
She looked up immediately, eyes sharp. Too
