A few nights later, I was stretched out on the couch in the living room halfheartedly watching TV when Skye came home from work. She was talking on her phone with someone and gave me a small wave as she dropped her purse on the recliner across the room and headed upstairs.
"There's food on the stove!" I called after her. Mom had just rotated to the night shift at the hospital, so we were left to our own devices at the moment. We sort of had an unspoken agreement that the first one home from work cooked dinner on the nights that it was just the two of us.
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