Chapter 1 — The First Order
Chapter 1 — The First Order
The room stayed loud.
His mother laughed at something on television.
His sister never looked up from her phone.
A cousin reached into a bowl of chips.
Not one of them noticed the silence that had settled behind them.
Until he picked up the remote.
Click.
The television went black.
Every head turned.
"What are you doing?" his mother asked, annoyed.
He didn't answer.
Instead, he walked into the living room with slow, measured steps.
His wife remained in the kitchen, one hand resting against the counter, uncertain whether she should follow.
He looked at every person in the room before speaking.
"Who made those dishes?"
Nobody answered.
"I'll ask again."
Still nothing.
His mother's expression hardened.
"Why does it matter? She's home all day."
The words landed like gasoline on a fire.
He stared at his mother.
"She's not home all day."
He pointed toward the kitchen.
"She's eight months pregnant with my child."
Silence.
"And while the rest of you sat here watching television, she cleaned up after every one of you."
His sister rolled her eyes.
"You're overreacting."
"No," he replied calmly.
"I've been underreacting for years."
His wife quietly shook her head.
"It's okay..."
He turned toward her.
"No."
"It isn't."
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For the first time since he walked in, everyone realized he wasn't asking for an explanation.
He had already made up his mind.
