"You do," Marcus said. The praise cost him. "You look perfect. Pajamas now. Please."
Mei moved as if to help with the buttons, but Marcus's glance stopped her without a word. Nora padded to the chair by the dresser, climbed onto it with the shirt pooling around her feet, and began the serious work of undressing from a life she did not understand. The navy tie slid free first. Then the shirt. Underneath she wore a pink tank top and shorts printed with tiny stars. She folded neither. She left them in a white-and-navy heap that looked, absurdly, like evidence.
"Can I still have ice cream after dinner?" she asked.
"Yes," Mei whispered.
"Go downstairs," Marcus said gently. "Find your coloring book. We'll be right there."
Nora went. Her bare feet made soft sounds on the stairs. The bedroom door remained open. The closet remained open. The evening remained early enough that none of them could pretend the day was already over.
Mei closed the door after the child's footsteps faded. The click was soft. It sounded like a verdict.