Daniel smiled.

“You’ve been saying that for years.”

For the first time that weekend, Emma almost laughed.

On Sunday evening, Tyler arrived carrying a package of cookies his mother had sent.

“Thanks for inviting me, Mr. and Mrs. Miller.”

He wore a blue sweatshirt, even though the weather was mild.

Emma came downstairs in jeans and a long-sleeved shirt.

The teenagers exchanged awkward greetings before joining us for dinner.

For the first twenty minutes, everything seemed ordinary.

Tyler talked about his science project. Daniel asked about basketball, and Emma gradually relaxed.

Then Tyler reached across the table for some bread.

His sleeve slid up slightly.

He immediately pulled it back down.

Emma noticed.

“Tyler, aren’t you warm in that sweatshirt?”

He shrugged.

“I’m fine.”

Daniel simply passed him the potatoes.

A little later, the conversation turned to Emma’s art assignment. She needed to draw a portrait of someone important to her.