I took the stairs two at a time.
The nursery door was half open. Noah was asleep. Lily stood beside the changing table, her eyes red, trying to look normal.
My mother folded blankets calmly, as if nothing in the world had happened.
“Evan, you’re home early,” she said.
I didn’t answer her.
I walked straight to Lily.
“Are you okay?”
She looked at me, and what I saw wasn’t relief.
It was fear.
Not only fear of my mother.
Fear of me.
Fear that I would see the truth and still explain it away.
My mother stepped in quickly.
“She’s overtired. I told her to rest, but she insists on doing everything and acting like a martyr.”
I said one sentence.
“I saw the camera.”
The room went silent.
