I reach for the bag, pulling it open.
“Because you said this was your favorite.”
She blinks.
“Eggs benedict,” I say. “From that diner.”
Her expression shifts.
Confusion first.
Then something softer.
“You went out to get ingredients?” she asks.
“And called in backup,” I add, nodding toward my phone.
“Backup.”
“My sister.”
She processes that for a second.
Then looks back at me.
“You’re making me breakfast.”
“That’s the plan.”
“You almost broke the eggs.”
“They’re still intact.”
“Barely.”
“Still counts.”
Her mouth twitches.
Just slightly.
Good.
I reach for my phone, unlocking it out of habit, and that’s when she sees it.
The list.
She leans in a little, squinting. “What’s that?”
I hesitate.
Not because I don’t want her to see it.
Because I didn’t plan on explaining it.
“Nothing,” I say.
“That’s not nothing,” she says, already stepping closer. “That’s… a list.”
