Arianne heard them before she reached the doorway.
Lily's voice—too loud, too fast, the way it got when she was running ahead of herself. Kyle's underneath it, lower, resistant. Leo's tablet tapping in short bursts, the rhythm of someone trying to keep up.
She stopped at the edge. Didn't step in.
Blocks scattered across the rug. A small chair dragged halfway across the room. A blanket crumpled near the wall. Lily stood in the center, already reaching for something Kyle was holding.
"I'm not doing it wrong," Kyle said, pulling back.
"It's going to fall."
"It won't."
