It was late evening when Desmond returned home. The house was quiet except for the sound of his mother moving things around in the living room. His sister, Carina, sat on the couch pressing her phone, her legs crossed.

When he walked in, his mother looked up and said, “Oh, you’re back. Working late again?”

Desmond sighed and nodded, dropping his jacket on the nearest chair. The smell of alcohol followed him. His mother’s nose twitched as she frowned. “My goodness, you’ve been drinking again,” she said, hands on her waist. “You get off work early and instead of coming home to help your mother, you go drinking. Is that...