He made sandwiches no one finished.
He checked the locks twice.
He folded a dish towel, unfolded it, and folded it again.
Silas sat at the kitchen counter watching him.
“Are you scared?”
Daniel set down the towel.
“Yes.”
“Of Mom?”
“Of getting something wrong.”
“You already got things wrong.”
Daniel looked at him.
Silas took a bite of his sandwich.
“So did Grandma. So did Mom.”
“That doesn’t make it easier.”
“No.”
Silas swung his legs beneath the stool.
“But it means tomorrow can’t be perfect.”
Daniel leaned against the counter.
“When did you become smarter than all of us?”
“I’m not.”
Silas frowned.
“I’m just the only one who didn’t have a secret.”
Daniel looked away.
His eyes had become bright.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For not answering you. For letting you believe your questions were the problem.”
Silas studied his father’s face.
