The bagels arrived twenty minutes later in a brown paper bag that smelled like sesame and warm dough. Lucas met the kid at the door in jeans and nothing else, signed the receipt, and brought the food straight to the kitchen table. Ryan had cleared a space between the empty bottles and the pizza box. Zoe sat on the counter instead of a chair, legs swinging, still in Lucas’s black t-shirt. The hem kept riding up when she moved.
Tyler was gone. He’d woken, mumbled something about work, and left without looking too hard at the three of them. The house felt emptier for it just the low hum of the refrigerator and the occasional creak of settling wood.
Lucas tore the bag open. Everything and plain and one cinnamon-raisin that nobody claimed. He handed Zoe an everything bagel, still warm. She sp
