C44 He will be late

We sat at the dining table for breakfast, the tension thick enough to slice with a knife. Mom took a spoonful of the fruit custard and hummed in delight, her voice dripping with satisfaction.

“Umm... I’ve missed your delicious cooking, honey,” she said, directing a smile toward Ezekiel.

He didn’t respond. His gaze, however, lingered on me.

I smiled faintly at him