Brooks cleared the counter and put away the food Celia had been prepping while Abby grabbed towels and a bucket to mop up the mess on the floor. It hadn’t taken long for Lucas to grab the hospital bag they’d already packed and rush Celia out the door.
Abby knelt, wiping the mess with the towels before grabbing the mop with more force than necessary. Her arms trembled, though she wasn’t sure if it was from adrenaline or exhaustion.
“You don’t need to do all that,” Brooks said, pulling out a chair and sitting at the small table. “Lucas won’t care if the floor is mopped.”
“I will,” Abby muttered. “I don’t want them coming home to this. It’s the least I can do for them… after everything.”
She dragged the mop across the tile, focusing on the repetitive motion. Back and forth. Back and forth
