That afternoon, the house settled into a slower rhythm. Meeting clothes had been changed. Dishes were washed. Sunlight stretched long across the living room floor. Nathan sat on the rug building a lopsided dinosaur enclosure out of books and couch cushions, narrating the movements of each creature as though the fate of history depended on it.

Samuel sat in his chair with his Bible open, not reading so much as thinking. Across the room, Sasha folded a light blanket and set it over the arm of the sofa. Her face was composed, but there was a distance in it now.

He waited until Nathan was absorbed again in his game.

“You’ve been thinking about this morning,” Samuel said.

Sasha looked up, then down again. “A little.”

“That’s honest.”