Page 111 of Override

My father said the flames only reached "concerning" levels.

A full minute passes before the next response. When it comes, I can practically hear the amusement behind it.

Taibhse:

That sounds like something a man would say while actively watching his house burn down.

A laugh escapes me. Because he isn't wrong. Not even a little.

Me:

My mother disagreed.

Taibhse:

I imagine she had several thoughts.

Me:

Most of them were loud.

The response takes longer this time.

Taibhse:

Did your father help?

The question is simple. But something about it makes my smile soften. I look out over the estate grounds before answering.

Me:

No.

Three dots appear. Pause. Disappear.

Taibhse:

No?

Me:

He sat at the counter drinking coffee and told me mistakes were how people learned things.

My throat tightens unexpectedly. The memory feels sharper than it should. Warmer.

Taibhse:

Your mother must have loved that.

A laugh escapes me.

Me:

She threatened to ban both of us from the kitchen.

The response doesn't come right away.

When the reply lands, it's only three words.