That evening, Vanessa prepared pasta for herself.
Amelia sat at the kitchen table watching.
Her stomach growled.
She tried to ignore it.
Finally, she whispered, "Can I have some?"
Vanessa looked up.
"Have you apologized for this morning?"
Amelia nodded.
"Yes."
"Properly?"
The girl lowered her eyes.
"I'm sorry I took cereal without asking."
Vanessa leaned back.
"That sounded rehearsed."
Amelia stared.
"What?"
"Go upstairs."
Tears filled the child's eyes.
"Please."
Vanessa set down her fork.
"Do you want me to tell your father you're misbehaving?"
Amelia froze.
"No."
"Then upstairs."
The little girl obeyed.
Later that night, Vanessa placed a few crackers on a small plate outside Amelia's bedroom.
She called it enough for someone who refused to follow household rules.
Amelia ate them.
Then drank water from the bathroom sink because she was afraid to go downstairs again.
She lay in bed listening to the familiar sounds of the house.
Vanessa's television.
Biscuit moving along the hallway.
A car passing outside.
Her stomach hurt.
She wanted her father.
She reached toward the bedside table for the device she normally used to call him.
It was gone.
Vanessa had taken it earlier, claiming Amelia needed a break from screens.
The child stared at the empty place.
Then whispered, "Daddy."
No one answered.
In Chicago, Daniel called shortly after eight.
Vanessa answered on the third ring.
"Hello, handsome."
He smiled tiredly.
"How are my girls?"
"Wonderful."
He looked toward the hotel window.
"Is Amelia around?"
Vanessa's voice remained cheerful.
"She's already asleep."
Daniel glanced at the clock.
"It's early."
"Long day at school."
He hesitated.
"Everything okay?"
"Of course."
She laughed softly.
"You worry too much."
Daniel smiled.
"Probably."
Then he asked about Biscuit.