I found it.
That evening, Brielle made pasta and garlic bread. Callum told a story about a terrible client. Brielle laughed at the right time. The kitchen lights shone warm on the cabinets Maren and I had painted cream the summer before Callum started high school.
Brielle passed me a bowl.
“You seem quiet today, Silas.”
I looked at her hands.
Those hands continue reading …
