Then I stood up, steadied myself, and started planning how to survive the next seventy-two hours.
I woke at five-thirty to the sound of something shattering downstairs.
My heart slammed into my ribs.
I threw on clothes and ran.
The kitchen was a battlefield.
Evan stood in the center, surrounded by broken glass, a milk carton tipped on its side, white liquid pooling across the tile.
Adrian was already there, still in a T-shirt and sweatpants, his expression thunderous.
“I told you to be careful—”
“I didn’t do it on purpose!”
“You never do.”
Evan’s face flushed red. “Maybe if you actually—”
He stopped mid-sentence when he saw me in the doorway.
Adrian turned.
For a moment, no one moved.
Then I stepped inside, grabbed a towel from the counter, and knelt in the milk.
“Everyone step back from the glass,” I said calmly.
Evan stared at me.
Adrian’s jaw tightened.
I soaked up the milk, then carefully picked up the largest shards and set them on the counter.
“Accidents happen,” I said. “No one’s hurt. That’s what matters.”
Evan’s hands were shaking.
I glanced up at him and said quietly, “You okay?”
He nodded, but his eyes were too bright.
Adrian exhaled sharply and turned toward the coffee maker.
I finished cleaning the glass, tossed the towel in the sink, and said, “Who wants pancakes?”
Luke appeared in the doorway, clutching a blanket.
“Me.”
Noah and Caleb followed, both silent, both watching Evan.
I pulled out a mixing bowl and started cracking eggs.
Adrian poured his coffee and left without a word.
Evan stood frozen in the middle of the kitchen, fists clenched, breathing hard.
I didn’t look at him directly.
I just said, “I need someone to measure the flour. Two cups.”
He hesitated.
Then he moved to the counter and reached for the bag.
Luke climbed onto a stool.
Noah grabbed the syrup from the fridge.
Caleb set out plates.
And slowly, quietly, the kitchen came back to life.
By the time Adrian returned an hour later, all four boys were sitting at the table, sticky with syrup, arguing about whether dinosaurs could beat dragons.
He stopped in the doorway, staring at the scene like it was something he hadn’t seen in years.
Maybe it was.
I wiped down the counter and said nothing.
But when I glanced up, Adrian was still watching.
Not the boys.
Me.
The next forty-eight hours blurred together.
Luke refused to get dressed and I let him wear his pajamas to homeschool lessons.
Noah had a meltdown over a math problem and I sat with him until he stopped shaking.
Caleb broke a remote control trying to fix it and I showed him how to open it properly.
