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.
