Lena? Sophieie's voice muffled through the wood. Are you awake? She sat up, pulling the blanket around herself. Yeah.
Can I come in? What was she supposed to say? No, this was their house. She She was just a temporary guest. Sure.
The door opened and Sophieie peeked in, still in her pajamas, hair sticking up in about five different directions. Dad made pancakes. Do you want some? Lena's stomach growled before she could answer. I don't want to impose.
You're not. He always makes too many anyway. Sophieie stepped fully into the room. Are you feeling better? Better than what?
Then last night you looked really sad. Kids and their brutal honesty. No filter, no pretense, just straight observation that hit like a punch. I was having a bad day, Lena said carefully. Dad says bad days don't last forever.
That you just have to get through them one at a time. Sophieie climbed onto the bench at the end of the bed, swinging her legs. Is today better? Was it? Lena wasn't sure.
The panic from yesterday had settled into something duller, but no less overwhelming. Grief, maybe, or the slow realization that she had no idea what came next. Ask me later, she said. Sophieie accepted this with a solemn nod. Pancakes are getting cold.
Dad says you should come down when you're ready. She hopped off the bench and disappeared, leaving the door open behind her. Lena got dressed in yesterday's clothes, the only ones accessible without unpacking her entire suitcase. Brushed her teeth with the spare toothbrush she found in the bathroom cabinet, still in its wrapper, tried to do something with her hair, and gave up. Downstairs, the kitchen was full of noise.
Thomas and Marcus were arguing about whether chocolate chips counted as a breakfast food while Adrien flipped pancakes with the patience of someone who'd had this conversation a thousand times. They're fruit-adjacent, Thomas insisted. How are chocolate chips fruit-adjacent? They come from cocoa beans. Beans are plants.
Plants are basically fruit. That's the dumbest logic I've ever heard. You're the dumbest logic I've ever heard. That doesn't even make sense. Your face doesn't make sense.
Adrien pointed his spatula at them. If you two don't knock it off, nobody gets chocolate chips or faces. Sophieie saw Lena first. She came. I told you she would.
All eyes turned toward her. Lena froze in the doorway, suddenly self-conscious in her wrinkled clothes and unmade face. "Morning," Adrien said like having a strange woman appear in his kitchen was completely normal. "Coffee, please." He poured her a mug from a pot that looked industrial grade.
Pancakes are almost ready. You eat breakfast. Sometimes the lie came automatically. She ate breakfast when Marcus mandated it. When there was time when she wasn't too nauseous from stress or fertility drugs or the growing realization that her marriage was falling apart.