Morning sunlight spilled across the dining table.
She was humming softly as she buttered her toast, scrolling her phone in between bites.
I sat across from her with my tea.
My fingers tapped on the mug without realizing it.
She glanced up and said, "You seem cheerful today."
I smiled — the kind of smile that doesn't reach the eyes.
"Yeah… just slept well for once," I lied.
She laughed lightly and went back to her phone.
It amazed me how easily she believed the mask I wore.
The truth was, I had spent half the night drafting a small note on my phone — a timeline of her little lies, a list of the days and places where her stories didn't add up.
Seeing it written down made me feel… powerful.
I sipped my tea slowly, pretending to enjoy the calm of an ordinary morning.
Inside, I was counting down to the storm.