The Divorce Countdown: Tears in the Closet

Adrian Johnston froze with the hairbrush suspended in midair.

The empty milk glass in Elena's hand struck the edge of the dining table with a dull sound.

They both looked at me in shock.

"Lily, what are you talking about?" Dad crouched until we were eye to eye and pressed his large palm to my forehead. "Are you still half asleep? Did you have a nightmare?"

"I didn't have a nightmare." I stepped backward and avoided his hand.

I did not dare let them touch me.

The system said they no longer wanted me because I was too badly behaved.

I turned and ran to the entryway, forcing my feet into the sneakers Dad usually helped me wear.

I could not tie the laces, so I shoved them messily inside the shoes.

"Lily will walk to preschool today. Daddy doesn't have to carry me."

I lowered my head and stared at the floor.

Mom hurried over and caught my arm. "Lily, what is happening today? Who taught you to say those things?"

Her voice sounded impatient. I could hear it.

She had to think I was annoying.

I forced the burning tears back, pressed my lips together, opened the door, and left without another word.

At preschool, I did not fight to be first on the slide all day.

Lunch included carrots, which I hated most. I closed my eyes, barely chewed, and swallowed them whole. Nausea twisted my stomach, but I covered my mouth and forced it down.

I had to become a good child. Good children were not sent to boarding school.

After class, Dad stood outside the gate in his crisp captain's uniform.

Usually, I sprinted toward him and launched myself into his arms.

Today, I did not.

I walked over and held the edge of his jacket properly.

Dad looked down at my hand, and a deep crease formed between his brows.

That night, I did not ask for a bedtime story. I pulled up the blanket and closed my eyes by myself.

Late at night, I secretly climbed out of bed and crept to my parents' bedroom.

The door was not fully closed, and warm yellow light spilled through the gap.

"Lily is acting completely unlike herself." Dad kept his voice low.

"She even ate a bite of the Brussels sprouts she hates most, and she didn't cry once." Mom sounded exhausted. "Where did she hear that nonsense about divorce and new homes?"

"We have to find out. Is someone gossiping around Aviator Gardens? Did another child say something at school?"

I leaned against the wall, my palms covered in sweat.

They had not denied the divorce. They were only wondering how I learned about it early.

The system had told the truth.

At that moment, the doorbell rang.

At eleven at night, the sound cut sharply through the quiet house.

Dad went to answer it.

My grandmother stood outside, holding the hand of a little girl in a pink dress.

"Mom? Why are you here this late?"

Grandma pushed the child forward. "Adrian, this is Nora Mercer, the daughter of a distant cousin. Her mother has gone overseas for advanced training, and no one can care for her. She's quiet and obedient, and you have plenty of space, so I thought she could stay here for a while. Perhaps Lily can learn some manners from her."

I peeked out from the shadows of the hallway at the girl called Nora.

She looked about seven, with perfectly combed hair and an old cloth doll in her arms.

[Warning: Replacement has entered.]

The voice sounded again inside my head.

My entire body began to shake.