---
And it showed.
She didn't speak again right away.
Her eyes moved.
Not toward me.
Toward the room.
Slower than before.
More detailed.
Like rereading something she had skipped over.
Her steps shifted slightly.
Toward the small table.
She stopped.
Looking at the surface.
No dust.
No stains.
Items neatly arranged.
Remote control.
Empty mug.
Small ashtray.
All perfectly aligned.
Consistent spacing between objects.
Her eyes moved down to the floor.
Clean.
No trash.
No clothes scattered around.
---
She turned slightly.
Toward the kitchen.
Her steps were slow.
She didn't ask for permission this time.
She was already inside.
I didn't stop her.
There was no need.
She stood in front of the kitchen area.
Looking at the sink.
Dry.
No piled-up dishes.
The stove was clean.
No burnt food scraps.
The small side rack.
Spices arranged.
No clutter.
She opened the refrigerator.
Her movements were smooth.
Quiet.
Inside:
Eggs.
Vegetables.
Water.
