Lana had been acting strange for weeks, but I blamed it on teenage moodiness. Then my nephew announced at a family lunch that he’d heard her and Albert whispering about me behind a locked door, and their smiles didn’t look real. The next day they left on a “quick errand,” and I followed them.
I didn’t notice Lana changing all at once. It was more like the house got quieter, but not peaceful. Like we were all listening for something to break.he’s 16, so I told myself it was normal. Teens are secretive. Teens treat parents like background noise.

But this felt different. This felt planned.She guarded her phone like it was evidence. If I walked into the kitchen, she’d tilt the screen away and smile too fast. When I asked, “Who’s that?” she’d simply say, “No one.”Her door stayed shut more. When I knocked, she took a beat too long to answer. Once I pushed in anyway and she snapped, “Can you not?”Albert told me I was overthinking. “She’s a teenager,” he said, rinsing a plate. “They get weird.”I wanted to believe him. We got married not long ago, and blending a family is delicate. I kept wondering if I’d messed it up.Then Lana started getting closer to him. Not distant from everyone. Just distant from me.