My mother left before sunrise.

I heard her suitcase roll across the hardwood, the quiet exchange of words with Noah at the front door, the soft click of the latch. By the time I came downstairs the house felt different — larger, quieter, and suddenly full of the three men she had left me with.

Noah was in the kitchen making coffee. He glanced at me when I entered, eyes moving briefly over the oversized t-shirt and sleep shorts I still wore, then returned to the coffee pot.

“There’s food in the fridge,” he said. “Help yourself.”

“Thanks.”

Liam appeared a minute later, hair still damp from a shower, wearing...