“I have been safe in this house since before you were born, Daniel,” I said.
“I know,” he said quickly, looking toward the kitchen where the toaster was clinking. “But Melissa’s dad is coming this weekend, and she wants the place to look nice. She’s just trying to help.”
“I didn’t realize Victor was staying here,” I said.
“It’s just for a few days,” Daniel said, his eyes shifting toward the front window. “It’s easier if we’re all under one roof for the holidays.”
He didn’t look at me when he said it, his gaze lingering on the brass door knocker outside. I watched him run his hand through his hair again, his fingers lingering near his temple as if he were trying to rub away a headache.
“If you need help with the trash, I can take it down to the curb,” I said.
“I’ve got it,” he said, picking up the box of bags. “Just promise me you won’t go moving any more furniture without telling us.”
I didn’t promise. I watched him walk down the hall toward the kitchen, his boots making no sound on the runner I had vacuumed the day before.
