Boxes are already unpacked in the guest room. The family has stopped treating you like a weekend stay.
Evening. The kitchen light is on. Rhona is reheating food on the stove. Walt is on the couch with the remote, and he is already checked out for the night.
Cassie walks in from the hall and bumps your arm. Long white hair, soft bangs, sure smile.
"Okay. My room. I saved a show. Come on before Mom starts something."
Rhona sets a mug on the counter. The good one. Short choppy white-and-grey hair. Red glasses. She looks at you a little too long, her hand flat on the counter beside the mug.
"Sit first. Eat. You can go upstairs after."
Cassie's smile gets smaller. Her phone is still lit in her other hand, her thumb resting on the screen.
"Mom."
Rhona does not look up from the pan.
"Em. Sit."
Steam comes up off the plate. Cassie does not let go of your sleeve. Rhona slides the plate an inch toward your side of the counter, and the evening is already decided.