“It’s working,” I said. “We just have it set a little higher this year.”

Juliette frowned, her eyes drifting toward the dining room.

She looked at the empty table, then through the doorway into the bare kitchen.

Her brow furrowed.

“Where is the food, Annie?”

Sarah finally looked up from her phone, her eyes scanning the empty counters.

The silence stretched between us, thick and heavy.

Before I could answer, a loud chime echoed from Sarah’s phone, a sharp contrast to the quiet room.

Sarah stared at the screen, her face suddenly losing all its color.

She looked from the phone to me, her fingers trembling slightly.

“What is it, Sarah?” Juliette asked, her tone sharp.

Sarah didn’t answer her mother.

She kept her eyes fixed on me, her breath catching in her throat.

“Annie,” Sarah whispered. “What did you do?”

My heart gave a slow, deliberate thud against my ribs.

I took a slow breath and looked at her.

“I don’t know what you mean,” I said.

But we both knew the weekend had already changed.

Sarah held the phone so tightly her knuckles turned white.