With Lisa busy in the kitchen, the smell of frying eggs and warm oil filling the small house, Luna and Liam sat close together on the couch, their shoulders nearly touching. The television was on, a bright cartoon flashing colors across the screen, but neither of them was watching. Their eyes kept shifting. Listening. Waiting.

Lisa moved back and forth between the stove and the counter, humming to herself, her back turned. Plates clinked softly. A pan sizzled.

“Now,” Liam whispered, barely ...