It started with something small. Mark was loading the dishwasher. Plates stacked, cups placed, everything moving along just fine… until Sarah walked in. She paused. Looked. Sighed. “Why would you put the bowls there? They don’t get clean like that.” Mark froze. “ They’ll be fine.”“No, they won’t. You should’ve put them on the bottom rack. That’s just how it’s done.” It wasn’t yelling. It wasn’t explosive.But something shifted. Mark didn’t say much after that. He just quietly