The house was neat but sparse with furniture that looked barely used. Nia followed him to a small kitchen where an old kettle sat on the stove. The walls were bare except for a single calendar, its pages crisp as though rarely turned. “Chamomile or peppermint?” Elias asked, reaching for a wooden box of tea bags.
Peppermint, please,” Nia replied, setting his breakfast on the counter. “My mom likes peppermint tea when she comes home from her night shift.” Alas’s hands slowed as he prepared the tea. “Your mother works nights, too.” Nia nodded, accepting the steaming mug with both hands. “At the hospital, she’s a cleaning lady there, and during the day, she works at the grocery store.
” She blew carefully across the surface of her tea. She says, “Working hard is how you show love.” Something flickered across Elias’s face. Pain maybe or recognition. He turned away quickly, busying himself with unwrapping his breakfast. “That must be difficult for both of you. Sometimes I don’t see her much,” Nia admitted.
