Silence for a second, then laughter from the corner. My niece, Kayla, smirked. “That’s exactly what you deserve, Lily.”

My throat tightened. I looked at my wife. Her eyes said, Did that just happen?

Lily stared at the mop like it might bite. “Grandma, I…”

“Don’t talk back,” Mom clipped. “If you’re going to keep coming here without paying for groceries, you can contribute. That’s how family works.”

I heard my own voice say, too calmly, “She’s nine.”

Someone coughed. Someone else muttered, “It’s just chores.” Across the room, Jake raised his beer like a referee who’d already made the call. “House rules, man.”

I took the mop from Lily. My mom smiled, a cold, flat expression that didn’t reach her eyes. All at once, I tasted metal. The room smelled like cinnamon and bleach. I told Lily to go sit with her mom. I told myself to breathe.