His brother didn’t answer.
“Do you know why she takes it?”
Silence.
“Do you know what her doctor told us?”
More silence.
Marcus looked around the room.
Not one person met his eyes.
Then he said:
“No.”
He pointed toward the kitchen.
“None of you know.”
His mother stood.
“Marcus, I was trying to help.”
“You were trying to help?”
“Yes.”
“Then why was my eight-month-pregnant wife washing everyone’s dishes?”
His mother’s face hardened.
“She volunteered.”
Marcus laughed once.
There was no humor in it.
“She volunteered?”
He looked toward the kitchen.
“Elena doesn’t know how to say no to you.”
His mother crossed her arms.
“That’s not my fault.”
“Maybe not.”
Marcus’s voice cracked slightly.
“But it’s your responsibility to stop taking advantage of it.”
His sister stood too.
“You’re being dramatic.”
Marcus turned toward her.
“Am I?”
“Yes.”
“Then tell me something.”
He pointed toward the kitchen.
“Why is she standing on swollen feet at ten at night while twelve healthy adults sit in this room?”
Nobody answered.
“Why did nobody wash the dishes?”
Silence.
“Why did nobody ask if she was tired?”
Silence.
“Why did nobody notice she was struggling?”
His mother opened her mouth.
Marcus stopped her.
