“You see how she talks to us, Rylan?” Solene murmured. “Like we are tenants. Like we don’t belong here.”

“I know, Mother,” Rylan said, keeping his eyes on me.

He stepped closer to me, so close I could smell the mint from his tea.

The noise from the living room seemed to fade into a dull hum, leaving only the sound of my own rapid breathing.

“You know, Calla,” Rylan said, his voice dropping to a whisper that Solene could barely hear. “This constant fighting is really wearing me down.”

“Then tell your family to leave,” I said.

“They are my family,” Rylan said. “They have nowhere else to go right now. I’m not going to throw them out onto the street just because you’re sentimental about a piece of rusty iron.”

“It’s not just the machine, Rylan, and you know it,” I said. “It’s the constant disregard for my boundaries. It’s the invasion of every single room.”

Rylan looked at me for a long moment, his expression unreadable.

Then, a slow, calculated smile touched the corners of his mouth.