Her hand went still. They wrote the ending before anything happened. Naomi looked at her mother. That was exactly what it felt like. Across the room as a metal tray slipped from someone's hands.
Naomi flinched before she could stop herself. Denise saw. Her expression softened. Baby, I'm fine. No. Naomi looked down.
Denise rarely challenged that answer. Tonight she did. You are holding yourself so tight your shoulders are almost touching your ears. Nia looked at Naomi. Naomi exhaled slowly.
I just don't want to mess this up. Mess what up? Anything. The answer came too quickly. Naomi knew it.
So did her mother. If I get angry, Ryan uses it. If I argue too hard, they say I'm aggressive. If I stay quiet, they write whatever they want anyway. Denise reached across the table and covered Naomi's hand.
You are not responsible for making dishonest people honest. Naomi swallowed. No, but I am responsible for not giving them more. There it was, the old wound. Denise heard it.
You still think about the house. Naomi stared at the papers. I think about you packing that kitchen alone. I wasn't alone. You thought we were asleep.
Denise said nothing. Nia's eyes lowered. Naomi continued. I heard you crying. The kitchen noise seemed farther away.
I remember thinking if dad had still been there, maybe nobody would have pushed us around like that. Denise's face tightened with grief. Your father couldn't have stopped redevelopment with karate. I know, but you were 16. I know.
And scared. Naomi looked at her mother. That's the part I hate. What part? Feeling like somebody else gets to decide whether we stay.
Denise squeezed her hand. Then don't let fear make the decisions either. For a moment, Naomi saw Marcus in the words. Not the tournaments, not the medals, just the way he used to stand in Ruth's kitchen after closing, washing pans because somebody had to. Character before applause.
Always. Nia pulled the statements back toward her. Then we do this properly. Naomi nodded. Dates first.
Times witnesses locations. Denise stood and food. Nia blinked. What? You don't fight bureaucracy hungry.
That finally made Naomi smile. Denise pushed the pie closer. Eat. They did. Not because either sister was hungry.
Because Denise had asked. An hour later, they had built a timeline on the back of a paper placemat. Tuesday, 2:10 p.m. Both twins in Professor Brooks's lecture. Wednesday morning, neither near the West parking deck. Thursday cafeteria video edited.
Naomi circled phrases that repeated across statements. Physically intimidating. Believed it could escalate. She counted the overlap. Too neat, too polished, too coordinated.