I had not made a face.
Then she added:
“Besides, at least someone in this house still knows how to improvise.”
That was when the laughter changed.
Some stopped.
Others grew nervous.
It was not about karaoke anymore.
It was about me.
Nolan’s smile weakened.
He finally understood that Leah had turned him into a weapon in a marital argument he had no business entering publicly.
I looked at my phone.
11:36.
Twenty-four minutes.
Leah followed my eyes.
“You counting the minutes until you can go to bed?”
“No.”
That answer unsettled her.
She handed the microphone to someone else.
The party continued.
Sort of.
At 11:41, Amanda came over.
“What the hell was that?”
I looked at her.
“Ask your sister.”
“I’m asking you if you’re okay.”
“No.”
She stared.
“Do you want me to take her upstairs?”
“No.”
“You’re way too calm.”
“I know.”
Amanda looked frightened.
“Graham.”
“Midnight.”
Again.
The word worked.
She stopped.
At 11:47, Leah found me near the pantry.
She was no longer smiling.
“What is going on with you?”
“Nothing.”
“Stop.”
“Stop what?”
“This performance.”
I almost laughed.
“My performance?”
“You’re trying to make me feel guilty.”
“I haven’t said anything.”
“Exactly.”
She folded her arms.
“You want everyone to think I did something terrible.”
I looked toward the living room.
“You kissed Nolan.”
“It was karaoke.”
“Okay.”
“There.”
She pointed at me.
“That.”
“What?”
“That cold little ‘okay.’”
I stared.
“What would you prefer?”
“I don’t know. React like a human being.”
There it was.
She wanted the anger.
Not because she feared it.
Because she could use it.
I said:
“Give me thirteen minutes.”
Her face changed.
“What?”
“Thirteen minutes.”
“For what?”
“You’ll see.”
For the first time all night, Leah looked afraid.
At 11:52, she stopped drinking.
At 11:56, she whispered something to Nolan.
He looked toward me.
Then shook his head.
At 11:58, Corey stood near the front door with his coat in his hand but did not leave.
Amanda stayed beside the kitchen island.
The music continued softly.
There was no birthday countdown.
No reason for anyone to care about midnight.
Except me.
At exactly 12:00, I turned off the karaoke machine.
The room quieted.
Leah stared.
“What are you doing?”
I looked at the guests.
“Sorry, everyone. I need about two minutes.”
Several people shifted.
Leah’s face went pale.
“Graham.”
I did not want to expose the affair publicly.
That still mattered.
So I did not.
I said:
“The party’s been great. Thank you for coming and celebrating Leah.”
Confusion.
I continued.
“I’m going to step out for the night, and I’d appreciate if everyone starts wrapping up.”
Leah stared.