At 5:06 a.m., my sister walked into the house I bo…

It had been a rescue. I had rescued them so quietly they had started calling it normal. Dad cleared his throat.

“Forty-eight hours is fair.”

I looked at each of them in turn. At Christina, already mentally replacing the furniture. At Jonathan, calm because he believed paperwork was power.

At my mother, twisting the end of her robe. At my father, who couldn’t keep looking at me for more than two seconds at a time. Then I asked, “Forty-eight hours?”

Christina smiled with visible relief.

“Exactly.”

I nodded once. “Okay.”

Silence fell over the kitchen so abruptly it almost made me laugh. Jonathan blinked first.