*

Peter heads downstairs, finding his father in the kitchen, wearing a loose button-down shirt and khaki shorts. George leans against the counter, playing Wordle on his phone. He struggles to find the correct letter combination but looks up as his eldest son enters the room, asking, "Sleep well?"

Peter rubs his tired eyes in reply, frowning as he reaches to lift the lid of a cardboard box on the counter.

He furrows. "Pizza?"

"Jim picked it up," George says, having returned to his puzzle. He pulls his eyes away from the screen once more, suddenly serious, "Don't tell your mother."

Peter laughs, producing a plate from one of the cabinets behind them. "Have you talked to her?"

George types in another incorrect answer, and his nostrils flare. "Uh–" He blinks, "Yeah, a little while ago. She'll be here in the morning."

Peter nods. He opens the pizza box and pulls a slice onto his plate. Then, passing his father as he heads for the living room, pauses. Peter looks at the puzzle over his shoulder, "Siege."

George turns, "What?"

Peter points to the screen with his slice, "Siege. It's the answer."

George furrows, returning to his game as Peter exits the room. He glances towards his son, then types in the answer.

It's correct.