The next morning, breakfast was mechanical. Claire moved quietly, eyes swollen but steady, speaking only to the boys. Daniel tried small talk, but she ignored him, her silence louder than any accusation. Ethan noticed and frowned, Leo asked why Mommy looked sad. Claire smiled weakly, brushing their hair, refusing to answer.
At work, Daniel couldn’t focus. Spreadsheets blurred, colleagues’ voices muffled. His thoughts circled like vultures, picking at guilt, anger, suspicion, shame. The card burned in his pocket. He checked his phone every hour, waiting for the lab email. Each notification made his chest seize before collapsing into disappointment.