Vivi's parents' house is a comforting sanctuary, a place where she can escape from the heavy burdens of work and memories of the past. For the rest of the week, she takes a break from the office and spends her days immersed in board games with her dad. Her mom occasionally joins them, her laughter filling the house as they dig out an old 13-in-1 game set that had gathered dust for years.
One sunny afternoon, the three of them sit around the coffee table, deep into a game of Scrabble. The air smells of her mom's freshly baked bread, and for the first time in a while, Vivi feels lighter.
"That word doesn't exist, Vivi, and you know it," her dad declares with a triumphant smile.
"Of course it does!" she protests. "Mom, back me up on this one!"
Her mother, ever the peacemaker, shakes her head gently. "I'm sorry, sweetie, but I have to agree with your father. There's no such word as 'zucchini.'"
