Streamers hung over the kitchen window, the good plates gleamed on the table, and the scent of vanilla and cinnamon filled the air. Helen even set aside a few extra candles, thinking maybe Lisa would laugh about it, “You always overdo it, Mom.” As evening fell, she texted: “Got everything ready for tomorrow!
Drop them off at eight? I’ll make pancakes, and Jake can help frost the cake after school.” She expected a quick heart emoji or a short “Will do.” Instead, the message sat unread. By the time she went to bed, there was still no reply. She tried to brush it off. Maybe Lisa was asleep early, maybe her phone had died.