Page 58 of The Prime-Time Experiment

Good,” Leanne said warmly. “I’m so glad.”

Charlie nodded in quiet agreement, and Tyler reached for another plate, redirecting the conversation again before it could settle too heavily on her. “So, Dad. Are you going to tell Riley about the time Mum tried to diagnose half your police unit with diseases over dinner, or should I?”

“I did not—” Leanne started.

“You absolutely did,” Charlie cut in, entirely calm. “And you were wrong about three of them.”

“I was not wrong,” she said, though she was smiling now. The conversation shifted again, carrying on around Riley instead of pressing into her.

❈

Dinner was warm and easy. Plates were cleared, the lingering scent of roast pork and gravy still hanging in the air, softened by the quiet clink of dishes in the kitchen as Leanne insisted Charlie help her with dessert. Their voices carried faintly; light, familiar, threaded with the ease that she felt.

At the table, Tyler and Declan had slipped into conversation about the upcoming game, something about travel schedules and match-ups, their voices low but animated. Riley listened, but didn’t feel the need to join the discussion. Sports weren’t something she’d have any knowledge of.

Ebony nudged her lightly, her voice quiet enough to stay between them. “Do you like it here?”

Riley turned her head slightly, her expression softer than it had been earlier. “Yeah,” she said. “I do.”

Ebony nodded, then picked at the edge of her plate. “Sometimes I don’t,” she admitted after a moment. “When there’s too many people. Or when it’s loud.”

Riley’s attention shifted fully to her, steady and present. “Yeah,” she said quietly. “That makes sense.”

Ebony glanced at her. “Everyone says that’s fine.”

Riley let out a small breath, her fingers resting loosely against the table. “It is fine,” she said gently. “But you are allowed to still feel like it’s too much, that doesn’t change your feelings.”

Ebony watched her for a second, then tilted her head slightly. “What do you do when it gets too loud?”

Riley paused, her gaze dropping briefly to the table, her fingers shifting against the wood before she looked back at Ebony. “It wasn’t always the loudness for me,” she said, quieter now. “Sometimes that was… easier than the quiet.” Ebony frowned slightly. Riley exhaled, slow and controlled, taking the time to process and think about what she was trying to say.

“I grew up outside Melbourne,” she continued. “On a property. It was… quiet most of the time.”

She paused again, choosing her words more carefully now: not to distance them, but to make them land properly. “When my dad was drinking, he’d get loud,” she said. “Shouting. Calling for me.”

Ebony’s hands stilled.

“I learned pretty quickly to stay in my room,” Riley added. “If I stayed there, I was usually okay.” A small pause. “But when it was quiet…” Her voice softened further, something more exposed in it now. “That was worse.”

Ebony looked at her more closely.

“Because I couldn’t tell what that meant,” Riley said. “If he’d passed out. Or if he was just… waiting for me to think it was safe.” The words sat between them, heavier now, but not sharp. “I didn’t know what being in a safe environment felt like,” she added, more simply.

Behind them, the conversation between Tyler and Declan quieted, not stopped entirely, just softened, as if they were aware Riley was telling something important.

Ebony didn’t look away. “What did you do?” she asked.

Riley shook her head slightly. “I stayed where I was. And waited until I could hear something again. That’s why I like knowing what to expect,” she added, her voice gentler now. “It makes things feel predictable. Predictability is my safety.”

Ebony absorbed that slowly, her gaze flicking briefly toward Tyler, then back. Riley followed it. “That’s not what you have here,” she said softly. “You’ve got people who check on you, who notice when life is too much, who love you. You don’t have to worry, when it’s too loud, they’ll help you.”

Ebony nodded, a little more certain now. “Okay.”

Riley gave a small nod in return. “Okay.”

The quiet that followed wasn’t empty, it felt more like the room had taken a breath. Riley became aware of it a second later. Leanne and Charlie returned, dessert in hand, their conversation fully faded as they stepped back into the room. The shift in atmosphere was subtle, but immediate. Leanne’s gaze moved across the table, reading it in a way that suggested she had heard what Riley had said. Her attention settled on her.

“Oh, sweetheart,” she said softly, setting the dish down. “You were so brave to share that.”