Chapter 9

A few hours after breakfast, the house had settled into its usual rhythm. The sunlight streaming through the blinds shifted gently across the bedroom floor, warming the edges of the bed where Amelia sat. Hazel had already left for school, she had taken the school bus today.

A large brown basket of laundry sat at Amelia’s feet, filled to the brim with clothes from the day before. Filled with Hazel’s tiny dresses, Adrian’s crisp shirts, her own folded blouses.

She worked quietly, folding piece after piece with deliberate neatness, the steady rhythm of her hands a contrast to the restless energy in the room. Across from her, Adrian paced. He was already dressed for the office, tie knotted, jacket buttoned, shoes polished to perfection. Yet, he hadn’t left. His briefcase sat on the armchair by the window, untouched.

Every few steps, he would stop, glance toward Amelia’s direction, then resume pacing again, as though rehearsing words he couldn’t quite string together.