Leo’s pov

Mom cried a lot, even when she tried to hide it, I always saw. She thought she was being sneaky, shutting herself in her studio, playing sad music, but I heard. I saw her shoulders shaking. She was a mess again, like when Dad left the first time, like after they fought. I hated that.

Dad, he was always shouting, sometimes, not at me or Zoe, not always. But at Mom. He'd call her names, small ones at first, then bigger, "Stupid, lazy, worthless." He'd tell her her art was a joke, ...