Emma gradually relaxed.
She laughed when Tyler described how his science partner had accidentally ruined their experiment by adding the wrong liquid.
For a few minutes, I almost convinced myself that we could have a normal evening.
Then Tyler reached across the table for the bread.
His sleeve slid up, exposing a patch of red, irritated skin along his forearm.
He immediately pulled the fabric down.
It was a small movement, but I noticed it.
So did Emma.
“Are you cold?” she asked.
Tyler looked up.
“What?”
“You keep pulling your sleeves down.”
“I’m fine.”
“Okay.”
She returned to her food.
Daniel passed Tyler the potatoes as though nothing unusual had happened.
A few minutes later, he asked Emma about her art assignment.
Their teacher had asked the class to draw a portrait of someone important in their lives.
“Who are you drawing?” Tyler asked.
“My mom, probably.”
Daniel smiled.
