I know that look.
That’s the look he gets right before he does something reckless on the ice, right before he picks a fight with someone twice his size, and right before he saysfuck it.
Chapter Fifteen: Tigerlily
I wake up to the sound of my dad’s voice down the hall.
He’s talking on the phone in that smooth, reasonable tone he uses with other people. The one that makes him sound like a concerned father instead of what he actually is.
I stare at the ceiling. Zinnia’s asleep next to me, her arm thrown over my stomach. She hasn’t let me go for the past week.
My new phone sits on the nightstand without a case. I still haven’t shopped for one, knowing that this one might break in his hand, too.
I slide out of bed carefully so I don’t wake Zinnia and walk to the bathroom. I splash water on my face and stare at myself in the mirror.
I look tired.
The daily routine starts the same way it always does now. I make breakfast. Scrambled eggs for Zinnia, toast for my dad, coffee black the way he likes it. I don’t eat. My stomach’s been a knot for days.
“Good morning,” he says when I set his plate down.
“Morning.”
“Sleep well?”
“Yeah.”
He takes a bite and nods. “This is good. You’re getting better at cooking.”
I don’t respond as I turn back to the stove to clean up.
“I’m leaving for work in twenty minutes,” he continues. “Make sure Zinnia gets to school on time.”
“I will.”
“And don’t forget—you’re picking her up today. I’ll be late.”
“Okay.”
He finishes his coffee. Stands. Adjusts his tie in the hallway mirror.
“Tigerlily.”
I turn. “Yeah?”
“You’ve been good this week. I appreciate that.”
My throat tightens. “Thanks.”
“Keep it up.”
He leaves.
I exhale for what feels like the first time all morning.
Zinnia shuffles into the kitchen in her pajamas, rubbing her eyes. “Is he gone?”
“Yeah.”
