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CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

last update Last Updated: 2025-06-27 22:33:13
CALEB

The house smells wonderful. My mom's roast turkey, golden and perfect as always, mocks me from the kitchen. Even when everything else falls apart, she can still nail a holiday meal. Three forks gleam at each place setting because we're apparently dining with royalty today.

"Glaze the carrots." She doesn't look up from her list, just points toward the stove like I'm hired help.

I want to tell her I hate glazed carrots, that she's known this for sixteen years, but instead I nod and reach for the honey. Dad's commentary on some meaningless football game drifts in from the living room—his voice too loud, too desperate for normalcy after this morning's church performance where we all pretended to be a functional family.

When the doorbell chimes at three-fifteen, Mom freezes mid-stir.

"I've got it," I say, wiping sticky fingers on the dish towel.

Tim stands on our porch wearing that navy sweater that makes his eyes stand out impossibly. Ellie clutches a store-bought pi
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