“It doesn’t belong in that gloomy room.”
“It stays where it is.”
Adrian’s eyes moved toward me.
Warning.
Victoria noticed.
Her smile became thinner.
“We don’t need to start badly.”
I set down my fork.
“Start?”
“My transition.”
“Into my home?”
“Our family home.”
“You haven’t asked me.”
Victoria sighed.
“Eleanor, at some point maturity means understanding that not every decision requires a vote.”
I almost admired the sentence.
It revealed so much.
“What does require a vote?”
She looked irritated.
“Don’t be childish.”
“Finances?”
Adrian stopped eating.
Victoria’s eyes sharpened.
“What about finances?”
“You mentioned last night that you should help manage them.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Adrian interrupted.
“Eleanor.”
I turned.
“Yes?”
“Enough.”
Victoria reached for her water.
“We are trying to take pressure off you.”
“What pressure?”
They exchanged a look.
There.
So fast I might once have missed it.
Eight weeks earlier I would have.
Now I saw everything.
Victoria leaned back.
“You haven’t been yourself.”
My heartbeat slowed.
Not accelerated.
Slowed.
The way it does when fear becomes certainty.
“How haven’t I been myself?”
“You’ve been suspicious.”
“Of what?”
“Everyone.”
“Who is everyone?”
Adrian pushed his chair back.
“This is ridiculous.”
I ignored him.
Victoria looked at me with practiced concern.
“You forget conversations.”
“Which conversations?”
“You become defensive.”
“About what?”
“Money.”
There it was.
The script.
I glanced at Adrian.
He was pale.
“Have you spoken to anyone about my mental health?”
Victoria froze.
Only briefly.
Adrian stood.
“That’s enough.”
I looked up at him.
“Sit down.”
The words surprised all three of us.
Adrian’s face changed.
“Excuse me?”
“Sit.”
Victoria’s voice hardened.
“You will not speak to my son that way.”
I reached beneath the table.
Adrian flinched.
He thought I might have a recorder.
I didn’t.
I was touching the house key clipped inside my pocket.
Grounding myself.
Reminding myself that doors existed.
“I have one question,” I said.
Victoria crossed her arms.
“What?”
“Why do you need to move in before November twenty-eighth?”
The color drained from Adrian’s face.
