The house stayed quiet for a long time after the full confrontation.

Elena remained on the kitchen floor with her back against the cabinet and Marcus crouched in front of her, his hands on the sides of her neck. The thick residual claim from the afternoon was still warm inside her. The lower marks under her sweater ached in a deep continuous line. Upstairs the master bedroom had gone silent after the hard close of the door. No footsteps. No drawers. No ordinary sounds of Victoria moving through the room. Just the ringing empty quiet that had replaced the heavy silence and the continuous pressure and every softer version of...