For a second neither of us said anything, the whole driveway holding its breath along with the rest of us.
Mom stepped off the porch and put her hand on my shoulder, the same spot my father had touched a few minutes earlier.
“I think it’s time you left, Vincent,” she said quietly.
Her voice didn’t rise, didn’t shake, just landed flat and final, the way a door sounds when it’s closed gently instead of slammed.
My father looked at the three of us, then at Jonah and Lily standing frozen in the doorway, then at the car still sitting in the driveway between all of us.
“Keep the car,” he said finally, his voice tight. “I’m not driving it back.”
He got into his own car, an older sedan he’d arrived in, and left without another word.
Nobody moved for a long moment after his taillights disappeared down the street.
