When he finally looked up, Daisy wasn’t blinking. Her face had drained of color, lips slightly parted. Lucas frowned. “Mom?” he asked. “Are you okay?” Her eyes darted from his face to the fireplace, then back. She forced a smile—too quick, too bright. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Just tired.”
But the response wasn’t right. Lucas knew his mother. That wasn’t tired—that was rattled. Deeply. He let it go, for now. Didn’t press. But something had shifted. The tension in her shoulders hadn’t been there before. The gears in his head began to turn faster.