Saturday began with Sam already in the house.

He worked from home again. The sound of his voice on calls drifted through the halls, and every time I passed an open doorway his eyes followed me. By mid-morning the comments had started-quiet, pointed remarks about how calm I seemed, how often my phone lit up, how strange it was that people had begun pairing my name with his brother's in the same breath.

Was he expecting me to be hysterical? I did fire back at him a few days ago.

I did not answer. I took coffee and a plate of food to the studio and locked the door.

I...