Chapter 3
The drive back home was wrapped in a suffocating silence, broken only by the rhythmic thumping of the tires over the asphalt and the soft, occasional sniffles coming from the backseat. Hannah gripped the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles were white, her eyes fixed entirely on the road ahead. In the passenger seat, Adam stared out the window, the blue fabric of his shirt rising and falling with deep, uneasy breaths.
"You didn't have to embarrass her like that," Adam said finally, his voice low, attempting to sound reasonable. "Monica is family. You know how she is. She has a sharp tongue, but she doesn’t mean any real harm."
"Not meaning harm doesn't negate the damage," Hannah replied, her voice dangerously calm. "She humiliated our daughter, Adam. She called her pathetic. And you stood there and agreed with her."
"I didn't agree with her!" Adam protested, turning to face his wife. "I just didn't want to start a massive screaming match in the middle of Sunday lunch. I was trying to keep the peace. You escalated it by dragging Olivia out from under the table and storming out."
"I kept the peace," Hannah said, her eyes briefly flicking to the rearview mirror where Olivia sat hugging her pink backpack to her chest. "I kept Olivia's peace. Because that is my job. That is our job."
"She’s eleven," Adam argued, rubbing his temples. "She needs to learn how to brush things off. The world isn't going to accommodate her sensitivities forever."
"The world shouldn't have to," Hannah snapped, finally letting a fraction of her anger bleed into her tone. "But her family should. Her family is supposed to be her safe harbor, not the storm she has to hide from. If we don't defend her in that kitchen, how is she ever going to learn to defend herself out there?"
Adam fell silent, staring down at his hands. He knew she was right, but pride and years of avoiding conflict with her domineering sister made the truth hard to swallow.
"I'm sorry, Olivia," Adam called back softly over his shoulder.
May you like
Olivia didn't answer. She just buried her face deeper into the nylon fabric of her pink backpack. Hannah reached back with her right hand, finding Olivia’s knee and giving it a reassuring squeeze.
"We're almost home, sweetie," Hannah murmured. "You're safe."
