At dinner, Tomas asked her to explain the dispute from the beginning.
She described the yellow ribbon, the staged hazards, the false assessments, and the attempts to change the school bus route.
She told him about Celia’s visit with the box and the false fire report.
Tomas listened without interrupting.
When she finished, he set down his fork.
“You sound exactly like you did during the platform case,” he said.
Lena looked away.
That investigation had lasted eighteen months and had left her exhausted by the public arguments that followed.
She had interviewed injured workers, examined damaged structures, and faced angry people who wanted a simple villain more than a careful explanation.


“This isn’t the platform case,” she said.
“I know.”
“Nobody has been seriously injured.”
“I know that too.”
“Then why are you comparing them?”
Tomas leaned back.
“Because you keep acting as though you can hold the whole situation together by being the most careful person in the room.”
Lena felt anger rise.
“Somebody has to be careful.”
“Yes.”
“And somebody has to recognize when a warning is manufactured.”
“Yes.”
“Then what do you want me to do?”
“Eat dinner with your brother without preparing a statement.”
The answer surprised her.
Tomas reached for the bread basket.
“I’m not asking you to ignore what happened,

” he said.
“I’m asking whether you’re allowed to be tired while it happens.”
Lena looked at the food on her plate.
She had spent the day responding to calls, checking facts, and reassuring people she barely knew.
She had not once asked herself whether she wanted to talk about any of it.
“I am tired,” she admitted.
Tomas nodded.
“Good.”
“Good?”
“Now we can talk like people who know each other.”
Lena laughed despite herself.
They spent the rest of dinner discussing his new apartment, a disastrous office birthday party, and the recipe their father had always claimed to invent.


When Tomas finally asked whether she wanted him to stay another day, she said yes.

The following morning, Tomas met Malik while helping Lena carry bags of compost into the garden.
Malik offered to take the heaviest bag.
Tomas refused until the bottom split and spilled soil across the path.
Lena stood over the mess with her hands on her hips.
“That was impressive,” she said.
“I was testing the packaging,” Tomas replied.
Malik laughed and fetched a shovel.
The three of them worked until noon.
They did not discuss Celia.
Lena found that silence more restorative than any advice she had received in weeks.