Chapter 11: The First Ordinary Day
Adrien set the phone down and stayed where he was, giving Mila time to decide whether she wanted him closer.
“No,” he said. “You’re not leaving tonight.”
Mila watched his face. “You don’t know that.”
“I know nobody has told us to go anywhere tonight. Ms. Bennett hasn’t made a placement decision. Tomorrow, I’ll talk with her about what happens next, and I’ll tell you what she says. I won’t let you hear only half a plan and have to guess.”
“What if she says we have to go?”
“Then she’ll explain it to us. And I’ll explain what I understand, too. I can’t promise what every decision will be. I can promise I won’t disappear or let you find out by surprise.”
Mila’s hand loosened around the zipper.
Nora glanced from her sister to Adrien. “So we sleep here?”
“Yes. You sleep here tonight.”
Mila didn’t put the clothes back in the bag. But after a moment, she set her clay token on the dresser instead of keeping it packed beside her clothes.
Adrien took that for the answer it was: not trust, not yet, but one small thing she didn’t have to carry.
“Do you want me to stay in the doorway a little longer?” he asked.
Mila nodded.
He stayed.
The next morning, he found both girls awake before him. They were sitting at the kitchen table, Nora drawing on the back of a paper napkin while Mila kept the clay piece beside her plate. Neither had touched the breakfast he’d set out: toast, scrambled eggs, and sliced strawberries.
Adrien stopped short.
“Did I get something wrong?”
“We didn’t know if we were supposed to wait,” Nora said.
“For what?”
She shrugged. “For you.”
The simple answer landed harder than an accusation. Adrien pulled out a chair, but didn’t sit until the girls looked up.
“You don’t have to wait for me to tell you that you can eat breakfast. If you’re hungry, you can eat. If you’re not, that’s okay, too.”
Nora considered the plate. “Can we have pancakes?”
“We can.”
“With strawberries?”
“Absolutely.”
Mila looked at the stove. “Can I help?”
“Yes. Would you rather stir the batter or put the strawberries on top?”
“Stir.”
Nora slid off her chair. “I’ll do the strawberries.”
Adrien measured the ingredients while Mila stirred with careful concentration. Nora arranged the berries in neat circles on a plate, then rearranged them when one slice didn’t line up.
It was not an important morning by any ordinary measure. There were no reports to read, no tests to wait for, no letters explaining the past. There was flour on the counter and a little batter on Mila’s sleeve. Nora insisted that the first pancake was supposed to look lopsided.
Adrien ate it anyway.
After breakfast, he sat with them at the kitchen table and laid out the day in simple pieces.
“Ms. Bennett is helping me work out what support we’ll need. We can call her this morning and ask our questions. Elise said she’ll call tonight. For the rest of the day, we can stay here, go for a walk, or read. What sounds best?”
“Do we have to pick?” Mila asked.
“No. I’m asking what you’d like. You can change your mind.”
Nora chose the walk. Mila wanted to stay inside. Adrien didn’t make them agree. He promised they could walk after lunch if Mila felt like it, and if she didn’t, he and Nora would go another time.
Then his phone rang.
The name of a senior employee appeared on the screen. Adrien answered, listened, and felt his mind begin to run ahead through deadlines, decisions, and the problem waiting for him at the office.
He had spent years believing that if he could solve every urgent thing, nothing else could catch him unprepared.
Across the table, Mila had stopped drawing.
Adrien looked at the phone, then at the girls.
“I need to handle something from work,” he said. “But I don’t have to leave. I’m going to ask someone else to take care of it.”
He turned back to the call.
“Jordan, I can’t review that today. Please make the decision you think is right and send me a note afterward. If it can wait, handle it tomorrow.”
There was a pause. Adrien listened, then repeated himself calmly.
“No, I’m not joining the call. You have what you need. I trust you.”
He ended the call.
Nora studied him. “Are you in trouble?”
“No. Someone at work needed an answer, and I gave them one.”
“But you didn’t go?”
“I didn’t.”
Mila returned to her drawing. Adrien didn’t ask if that meant she believed him. He washed the breakfast dishes while Nora selected a book, and when Mila asked if he could sit nearby while she drew, he brought a chair to the table.
Later, they called Ms. Bennett together. She confirmed that no placement decision had been made and that she would continue coordinating the next steps with them. She answered the girls’ questions plainly, without asking them to choose anything that day. When the call ended, Mila looked less tense, though she still held her clay piece in her palm.
After lunch, Nora remembered the walk. Mila decided she would come, too, as long as they stayed close to the house.
They walked along the path behind the villa, stopping to look at a beetle crossing the dirt. Nora wanted to know where it was going. Adrien said he didn’t know, and Mila said the beetle probably didn’t know either. That made Nora laugh.
They were back before the girls got tired. Nothing had been solved by the walk. Still, they had gone out together and returned together, just as Adrien had said they would.
That evening, Elise called. Her voice sounded tired, but she was awake and glad to hear them. Nora told her about the pancakes. Mila said very little, though she stayed close enough to hear Elise’s voice through the phone.
Afterward, Adrien helped the girls get ready for bed. He read aloud from their chosen book, stopping whenever Nora asked a question about the pictures. When he closed it, neither girl seemed ready for him to go.
Nora rubbed one thumb along the edge of her blanket.
“Did Mom like this house?”
Adrien took a breath. He could have reached for a perfect memory, polished smooth enough to hide what hurt. Instead, he told them something small and true.
“She liked the kitchen best. She used to sit at the table with a cup of tea and leave the window open, even when I thought it was too cold.”
“Why?” Nora asked.
“She said the house needed to hear the birds.”
Mila looked toward the dark window. “Did you close it?”
“Sometimes. She’d open it again.”
That earned a faint smile from Nora.
“Was she happy here?” Mila asked.
“I think she was. I know I was, when we were here together.”
He paused. “And I’m sad she isn’t here now. I still miss her.”
The girls were quiet. Adrien let the silence remain, without trying to fill it with a promise that nobody would feel sad again.
Then Nora spoke.
“Can we see where Mom is buried?”
Adrien felt the question in his chest before he could answer. He looked at Nora, then at Mila.
May you like
Mila held the blanket close beneath her chin.
“I want to go, too,” she said.
