The scent of tomato sauce hung heavy in the air, sweet and familiar, yet to Lina it felt like a blanket wrapped too tightly around her shoulders. Sabine set out the bowls on the table, Markus poured water into the glasses, Tom kicked his ball against the doorframe until a sharp look from his father stopped him. Everything was as usual – and nothing was as usual.
Lina sat down slowly, still clutching her notebook like a shield. She mumbled a "thanks," twirled pasta around her fork, but her appetite was gone. The sauce smelled of basil and warmth, but tasted of pressure.
Sabine looked at her. Not sternly, not softly. Examining. "You've been out a lot lately."
"Homework," Lina murmured.
"Always?"
"Mostly."
Tom grinned widely. "Nah, that's not true. She's meeting someone."
"Tom!" Lina hissed, her cheeks burning.
"It's true," he insisted. "With a boy."
Markus raised his eyebrows. "I see."
"It's not what you think," Lina said hastily.
