Lily kept going once she started.
“She made us sit up straight at breakfast. She said we looked sloppy. She told June not to ask for seconds because little girls get chubby. She said if we told you, you’d think Mara was jealous and fire her.”
Each sentence was calm. Memorized. Like she’d been carrying them around waiting for the right room.
“Did she ever hit you?” I asked.
Lily shook her head.
“Grabbed,” June said, rubbing her wrist again.
“Shoved my chair once,” Lily said.
Mara closed her eyes for a second.
I asked why Lily had hidden the phone under the sofa.
“Because that was the room she liked,” Lily said. “Mara said if I ever felt scared, stay where there are doors and somewhere to hide the phone.”
I looked at Mara.
“I didn’t want them cornered upstairs,” she said.
Prepared. Not dramatic. Practical. The kind of plan people make when they know danger shows up on a schedule.
