They Weren’t Hungry. They Were Waiting.
The kitchen lights were already on.
Agnes and Victor sat at the table like they owned the place.
No plates. No coffee. No “good morning.”
Just smirks.
“Finally,” Agnes said, leaning back in her chair. “The princess descends.”
Victor checked his watch like this was a performance that started late. “Twenty minutes,” he said. “Daniel, you need to run your house better.”
Daniel’s voice changed instantly—from rage to obedience. “I’m trying, Dad. She’s difficult.”
His sister Lauren was there too, by the counter. Arms folded. Eyes down. Silent.
I reached for the pan. The carton of eggs. My hands shook hard enough I almost dropped it.
A wave of dizziness hit—fast and violent. My vision speckled. My ears rang.
