When Miles came back inside, my brain was foggy with exhaustion. I remembered the bed dipping, him wrapping his arms around my waist, and kissing the back of my head before I fell back asleep.

Neither Miles nor Joseph said anything about what had happened. The day moved on like there had not been a murder last night. The kitchen floor and cabinet were no longer coated in blood, but the smell of bleach lingered in the air.

I was unable to eat my dinner, so I pushed my food around the plate with my fork. My stomach was in a tight knot as I stared at the kitchen floor. Three bloody bodies had been on that floor in just a couple of months. Four bloody bodies, if I included how Miles attacked Silas when he threatened me in the middle of the night. Each time I glanced at Miles, he was watching me intensely. He leaned forward as he shoved the food into his mouth, but his eyes never left me. It was as if his stare was burning holes into my skin. Joseph was the first one to break the silence.

"Maisie," he said. "You need to eat."

"I am not very hungry," I said.

"What's wrong?" Miles asked. His voice was sharp like he was fighting away panic. "Are you sick?"

I shook my head as I continued to drag my fork through the mashed potatoes. A hand reached forward and grabbed my wrist to stop me from playing with my food. The hand was too small to be Miles and coming from the wrong side of the table. I closed my eyes, not wanting to look up at Joseph. There were vague memories of him coming into the bedroom last night. I could not remember any of what we had said to each other, but I remembered him kneeling in front of me. The most vivid part of the memory was how he kissed my temple before I fell asleep. Did Miles know he came into the room while I was asleep? Why was Joseph even in our room so late?

"Maisie, you cannot be starving yourself," Joseph said. "You need to keep yourself healthy for you and Briar."

"I am not starving myself," I said. "I just don't have much of an appetite."

Joseph's hold tightened on my wrist. Why was he not pulling away? His calloused hand was hot on my skin, and I focused on my breathing to push away the increasing nausea. His touch plus last night's memories almost pushed me over the edge.

"We cannot afford to waste any food," Joseph said. "You have not acted like this in a long time."

Joseph did not need to ask the question. He knew exactly why I was not eating. I moved to pull my arm away, but Joseph did not let go. I opened my eyes; however, I could not look at Joseph. Across the table, Miles was watching us. His intense stare was focused on Joseph's hand on my wrist. My breath was shaky as I tried my best not to vomit.

I was never able to read Miles's mind. Would he hurt Joseph? Was his father touching me too much for him to handle? Miles wanted to protect his family so he would surely not harm his father; however, after watching him effortlessly slice Vincent's throat, I had no idea what Miles would do to keep me and Briar safe from harm.

"I do not want to waste food," I said. "Either you or Miles can have my dinner."

"Maisie," Joseph said. "I know you're upset, but that is no excuse not to eat."

"I'll be sick if I eat."

My voice was soft, and I doubted either of them heard me until Miles moved. He reached across the table and grabbed my plate. He scooped my portion of potatoes, vegetables, and chicken onto his plate. Joseph sighed before letting go of my wrist. I pulled my arm away and held my hands under the table so that he could not hold me again. Miles shoveled the food into his mouth as he stared at me. Joseph glared at Miles, who appeared unaffected by the cold look.

"She needs to eat her own portions," Joseph scolded him.

"If she eats and then is sick, it is a waste of food," Miles said. "She will eat when she is hungry."

"I thought you were protecting your family."

"I have done a lot to protect this family."

I chewed on my bottom lip as my fingers picked at the skin around my nails. I prayed Briar would start crying so I would have an excuse to leave this tense conversation. My knee bounced under the table, but none of them noticed my nervousness. They were too focused on glaring at each other as they tried to get the other to crumple under their intimidation.

"Then keep protecting this family," Joseph said. For the first time, I noticed his words were slurring together. How much had he been drinking? "You think protection is only about keeping outsiders out, but you need to maintain order inside this home. We are poor. We have been on the brink of starving for the last couple of years, and you're letting your wife waste food. You're letting her make herself weak and frail. She is going to get sick, and then she could die. You are supposed to be protecting her."

Miles did not break eye contact with Joseph as he shoved another forkful of potatoes in his mouth. Despite everything Joseph said, Miles did not change his expression. How did he always manage to let his face be so blank?

"You're drunk," Miles said bluntly. "Where did you get the whiskey?"

Joseph slammed his hands on the table as he stood. I jumped at the loud noise as the dishes clanged together. He let out a string of curses as he knocked the chair to the floor. Storming over to the staircase, he ran his fingers through his hair and said words I had not heard since my nights at the tavern. Miles continued to eat as we listened to him upstairs march to his bedroom and slam the door.

The noise woke Briar. I hurried away from the table and over to her crib, desperate to escape the awkward dinner that had just happened.

–

Days passed by slowly, and the tension did not ease from the house. I was unsure if Miles and Joseph were speaking outside when they worked on the farm, but they only grumbled a few words to each other in the evening over dinner. I forced myself to eat small bits of my food because I did not want to cause another argument. Joseph always left the table early, and I could smell the whiskey lingering on his breath. When I cleaned his bedroom, I found empty bottles underneath his bed. Miles would finish my dinner for me once Joseph had disappeared upstairs.

One night, I was washing the dishes while Miles sat at the table. Briar was in his arms, and I could see the hint of a smile on his lips. My heart always fluttered in my chest when I could see Miles happy, especially if it was caused by Briar. He spoke to her softly, and I could barely understand the words. She kicked her arms and legs out as she made her own noises. I kept stealing glances over my shoulder to look at the precious moment.

When I finished, I turned and leaned against the counter. I wiped my hands on the dish rag as I watched my family. Miles had been stressed since Clara's death, especially after he killed Vincent. No one else had come to the home, but the tension remained in his muscles. He often lingered by the windows, not saying anything but staring at the farm. Seeing his face soften as he looked down at his daughter gave me hope we could return to something normal.

I was unsure how much time passed because I was mesmerized by watching the two of them together. A loud bang came from upstairs, which brought us back to reality. It sounded like Joseph had dropped something on the floor while he was drunkenly stumbling around his room. Miles let out a deep breath as he stood. He walked over to me and placed Briar into my arms. His attention was focused on our daughter, even when he reached forward to run his fingers through my hair. He kept his hand on the side of my head as he leaned in close so his forehead was pressed against mine.

"You two should rest," he said.

"Are you coming upstairs too?" I asked.

"Soon."

Miles kissed my forehead before taking a step back. I watched him pull his key off from around his neck and unlock the back door. He stepped outside and brought Briar up to our bedroom.

The room was dark, and I had fallen asleep when Miles came into the bedroom. I yawned and dug the heel of my hand into my eyes as I watched him remove his clothes. He crawled into the bed, and the smell of smoke clung to his hair. Without a word, he wrapped his arms around me and a few minutes later was snoring.

I laid in bed unable to fall back asleep. Miles's body was warm, and his grip on me was tight. My skin became slick with sweat. My mouth and throat were dry, and I needed a drink of water. Carefully, I pulled Miles's arm off of my waist. He groaned but did not wake as he shifted his weight and rolled onto his other side. I managed to creep out of the room without waking him or Briar. I kept the door open a crack to stay quiet as I slipped into the hallway.

I moved through the dark kitchen and grabbed a glass of water. I took a sip as I walked toward the staircase, but an unknown sound made me freeze. For a moment, I thought it could be one of the intruders Miles worried about. The sound could be another person coming into the home to hurt us. I waited for the noise to return, and when it did, it came back as words.

"Dear lord," the voice said. "Why? Why? Why?"

The voice trailed off as it spoke. I stepped back over to the sink so I could look out the window. Joseph was sitting on the steps of the porch. A lantern was by his feet, giving enough of a dim glow so I could see his movements. He was leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. His head was resting in his hands, and his shoulders shook as he sobbed.

I bit down on my lip as I watched him sob. My mind was brought back to the mysterious man I had met in the tavern. I thought he would be a new customer to spend the night with, but I did not anticipate he would give me the family I had always desired. Joseph had changed my life for the better. He stopped me from spending the horrendous nights in the tavern and gave me my dreams. My feet were moving before I could think, and I wanted to comfort the man who had saved me.

I walked to the back door. To my surprise, the knob turned because the door was left unlocked.