Downstairs, his phone continued buzzing across the kitchen counter.
This time, he ignored it completely.
Part 3:
By the next morning, Patricia had called eleven times and left four voicemails. Melissa had also sent a long rant accusing Ethan of being “dramatic,” “controlling,” and “brainwashed by Lauren.” Ethan didn’t read any of it aloud.
Noah’s fever had dropped to 100.9. He still looked miserable, but he managed to drink water from his dinosaur cup and eat half a banana while sitting in Ethan’s lap. That tiny improvement eased the tension hanging over the house.
Lauren slept until ten in the morning.
Ethan protected that sleep like something sacred.
He fed Noah, cleaned the kitchen, started laundry, and stripped the guest room where Patricia and Melissa had stayed. On the nightstand he found empty water bottles, crumpled tissues, and Lauren’s missing phone charger. In the bathroom trash he discovered takeout containers Melissa had apparently hidden instead of throwing away properly.
Every small discovery hardened his resolve.
When Lauren finally came downstairs wearing a cardigan, she stopped at the sight of the spotless counters.
“You didn’t need to do all this.”
“Yes,” Ethan answered softly. “I did.”
She studied him carefully. “What happens now?”
He knew exactly what she meant.
Patricia would never quietly let this go. She believed apologies were things owed to her, never from her. Melissa would repeat whichever version of the story sounded the most dramatic. By lunchtime, the rest of the family would probably hear that Lauren had manipulated Ethan against his own relatives.
