"How long?" Nia asked without turning.
"How long what?"
"How long have you been planning to move us out of this house without telling me?"
He was quiet for so long that she almost turned. Then he said, "Three months," and the number felt like a door closing.
Three months. While she had been presenting case studies on leadership pipelines and sleeping in a rented bed that never quite smelled like home. While she had FaceTimed Amara every night and asked about school and friends and whether Daddy was making vegetables. While Marcus had smiled into the phone and said everything was fine, baby, don't worry, focus on the program.
Everything was fine.