Downstairs the TV shuts off and I can hear Mom pacing around in the living room, but something is off about it. She keeps going in and out of the kitchen through the front hallway. The floor at the bottom of the stairs creaks every time she walks over it.

Me: *weaves a crown from the flowers and places it on your head* *twists a fractal tree branch into a scepter with a nebula for a jewel* *dubs you queen of Starworld*

Zoe: *knights you with the scepter*

Me: *pulls a sword out of a star in preparation for adventure*

Zoe: *packs spicy snacks for the journey*

I’m giddy. Starworld is starting to feel bigger and more real — like somewhere we could spend forever exploring.

Me: *activates the conversion mechanism to transform one of the castle turrets into a rocket ship*

Zoe: *sits in captain’s chair, hoping you know how to navigate*

Me: *initializes launch sequence* *buckles up for entry into hyperspace* *guides ship into a wormhole to carry us across multiple galaxies*

Mom’s pacing is driving me up a wall, somehow seeming to grow louder with each pass she makes. I resent the distraction from my conversation with Zoe, not to mention that if she doesn’t knock it off, I’ll never be able to finish the last of my homework later, much less sleep.

Me: *carefully lands on a new planet where the sun is just rising over the crimson hills*

Zoe: *marvels at Technicolor landscape*

Me: *points to a blue forest filled with tree houses that comprise a robot factory*

Zoe: *wonders if they are working on a new and improved BOY-FRND model*

Me: *heads for the closest ladder into the trees*

Zoe: *takes the pulley-operated elevator*

I laugh. I love that she always adds something new to whatever I create.

Mom creaks past again, then comes up the stairs. I brace myself for her knock on my door, but it doesn’t come. She goes back down and makes her loop again.

It almost would have been better if she confronted me, because I’m the one who set her in this pattern. I know what’s causing it.

Me: *must step away from treetop robot factory to untangle compulsion loop on the home front*

Zoe: *sends you good untangling vibes* *sighs sadly* *also returns to home front and homework*

I leave my phone on the bed and pad down the stairs, waiting until Mom is in the living room again — close enough to hear me, but just far enough away that she’s unlikely to start a conversation.

I close the front door four times, softly. As much as I hate doing these pointless things, it’s easier to finish the routine and placate her. I can’t live with the guilt of being the reason she’s anxious.

I go back upstairs to find one more unread message from Zoe: Good night, Sam. See you in Starworld tomorrow?