Blanche's POV
Zain settled into his chair at the dining table, and Carry cocked her head. "Dad, you're not staying late at work today?"
"No," Zain replied.
Carry twirled pasta around her spoon, a dab of sauce sticking to her lip.
She beamed. "Awesome! It's been forever since we all ate together."
Zain reached for a napkin, dabbing at her messy face with a soft laugh. "Slow down."
Carry bobbed her head and shot me a glance.
I picked at my food in silence, keeping my expression neutral.
Carry must have noticed how different things were now. I used to brighten the moment Zain walked through the door.
These days, I didn't even bother getting up to greet him.
Before, I'd take his jacket and briefcase, lay out his house shoes, and tell him, "Wash up. Food's almost done."
Carry looked confused, but she couldn't piece it together.
She shrugged it off and went back to eating.
