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“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I told him from the door.

I don’t think he even knew I was there.

I switched the kettle on, then dropped a tea bag into my mug. My phone buzzed on the worktop, and my mind went to Quinn. I grabbed it, and my heart sank.

Mum.

I stared at the screen for a moment before answering. “Hello.”

“Max?” Her voice carried the familiar mix of relief and caution, as though she never quite knew what tone I’d answer with. “Oh good. I wasn’t sure if you’d still be at work.”

“I finished about an hour ago.”

“How was your day?”

“Uneventful.”

There was a pause that didn’t last for long. Mum filled the silence the way she always did.

“I made your aunt’s shepherd’s pie tonight,” she said. “The one you liked when you were younger.”

“That’s good.”

“You used to eat two helpings.”

I chuckled. “I was a teenager.”

“Well, yes.” She laughed. “You probably could again.”

The kettle clicked off. I poured the water into the mug and leaned against the worktop.

“Are you still doing the singing?”

“Yes.”

“With that group?”

“Yes.”

“Rough… Harmony?”

“That’s the one.”

“Well,” she said after a moment, “I told Sandra from church about it.”

“That must have been thrilling for her.”

“Max.”

“I’m joking.”

Another small pause, then she cleared her throat. “I actually called because I wanted to tell you something.”

That tone meant she’d been rehearsing.

“What is it?”

“Well…” She hesitated. “I’ve been seeing someone.”