When I woke up, I heard laughter.
A lot of laughter.
I walked downstairs slowly—and froze.
The dining room was full. At least twenty people. Friends of Daniel. Friends of Ashley. A couple of neighbors I barely recognized. They were eating the meal I had cooked.
No one had called me.
“Did you… start without me?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.
Daniel was sitting at the head of the table.
My seat.
Ashley was in Linda’s chair.
Daniel looked up, smirking as he stood.
“Oh, hey, Dad. Didn’t realize you were awake. You’re so quiet these days, you’re like a ghost.”
A few people laughed.
Others looked down.
Then Daniel walked into the kitchen and came back holding an old metal bowl—the one we used years ago for our dog, Rocky.
My stomach tightened.
He opened a bag of dog kibble, poured it into the bowl, and set it down in front of me on the table.
“There you go,” he said. “Dinner’s ready. Around here, everyone contributes… except you.”
Everything inside me went still.
“In this house?” I asked quietly. “Which house, Daniel?”
Ashley had already pulled out her phone, recording.