Mom laughed at the speakerphone. Dad asked who wanted Thai. The house kept being a house.
Sebastian still didn’t look at me.
“What,” I said. Too fast.
He pulled the earbud out and rolled it between two fingers. “Nothing. Door next time.”
He got up and took his laptop to his room. The hallway swallowed him. I sat on the couch with my pulse in my throat and the sentence sitting on me like a hand.
You should lock your room when you do that.
He could have heard the toy. The house was thin. That was the clean explanation. The other explanation was the one I had swiped away at noon.
I didn’t eat the Thai. I said I had a headache. I went upstairs and locked the door I had not locked this morning and sat on the bed with the phone.
Deleted. Gone. I opened Photos anyway. Recently Deleted. Em
