“Did I do this?” she whispered. But the air, like the house, had no answer. That night, the house felt like it was holding its breath. The silence wasn’t peaceful anymore, it was thick, unnatural, a silence that had weight. Helen sat at the kitchen table, the real estate flyer spread open beside her mug of tea gone cold.
The smiling photo of the new townhouse stared back at her, bright and hollow. She kept thinking about the word printed in bold letters at the top: New Beginnings. Her fingers trembled as she traced the letters, her mind spinning in circles. Maybe I was too controlling. Maybe the vase incident upset her more than I thought.