“You let Dana move in like it was nothing. She threw away Mom’s favorite mug. Said it was ‘old.’ She won’t let me bring flowers to the grave. And you just sit there. Like none of it matters.” Still no answer. The silence clawed at Lucas. “You didn’t even cry at the funeral.” That finally got him. His dad turned, eyes hard. “Enough.”
“No, it’s not,” Lucas snapped. “I live in a house full of her things and no one talks about her. It’s like she’s being erased. Is that what you want? To forget her completely?” His father’s voice was low but sharp. “You think I don’t feel it? That I’m not hurting too?” Lucas shook his head. “You don’t act like it. You’re just… gone.