Sienna

The next day started out quiet enough.

Sunlight spilled through the living room windows, and the house smelled faintly of cinnamon and fresh laundry. But under that calm surface, something heavy lingered — the kind of silence that made every little sound feel too loud.

Mom and Dad were at the dining table again, laptops open, notepads scattered everywhere. I walked in just as Mom said, “So, if we leave early Friday, we can visit Stanford first, then maybe UCLA over the weekend. What do you think?”

Dad looked up from his screen. “That makes sense. We can drive down the coast afterward, stop at a few others along...