Jasper stands in the doorway after the slam of Caroline's exit has finished shaking the frames. The house is too quiet, as if noise itself has decided to take sides. In the kitchen, a single daisy leans out of a jar, ridiculous and cheerful. The engine of the car outside ticks down like a metronome letting him know there's still time to fix things if he moves.
He meant today to be gentle—his word for it, anyway. Pick her up. Bring her home. Give her normal things to anchor to. He paid the bills; he cleared her reentry paperwork; he made sure Dr. Chen never had to stall for wires. He did what he could. He tells himself this and feels the sentence fail to turn into absolution.
Fiona hovers at the edge of the living room, sweater hugged to her chest like a prop that forgot its scene. “It's
