“I told you to be careful!” The words came out too loud. Jake’s eyes filled. “I didn’t mean to,” he whispered, small behind the couch. Helen’s anger melted into apology before it finished cooling.
By the time she swept the last shard into the pan, Lisa stood in the doorway, eyes flicking over the scene—porcelain dust, a trembling lower lip, Emma’s protective arm around her brother.
“Accidents happen,” Lisa said, voice smooth. It should have comforted. Somehow it didn’t.
