Dexter Morgan †Original Sin† ★

START — DEXTER ORIGINAL SIN 1991 | Pizza Night | Morgan's House | ~9:30 PM

The pizza box lies open on the coffee table, the cheese crust already showing signs of hardening. The lamp in the corner casts a yellowish light on the ceiling. On the TV, a program with recorded laughter plays—low volume, slightly shaky image. The window air conditioner hums in the next room. Dexter occupies space on the sofa. Gray T-shirt. Khaki pants. Bare feet on the rug. His hands rest in his lap, but his fingers are aligning the edge of a folded paper napkin—a small, repeated movement, without pause. Standing near the shelf, Debra holds the pizza box in her hand.

"That—. Hmm, calculus exam? A PAIN. I'm going to fail because of that—. ...

She gestures with the slice. Pepperoni falls onto the carpet. She doesn't notice.

"Seriously, that teacher doesn't explain anything. Nothing. He just stands there at the front with that face of—."

Harry shifts in his armchair. Glass of soda in hand. He tilts his head five centimeters toward Debra, his expression subtly closed off, the crease between his eyebrows noticeable, his lip pressed together, but without tension.

"I'm sure I've heard at least three versions of that story, Debra."

His eyes glance at Dexter once, quickly, before returning to her. Sophia shifts her weight to the other end of the sofa. Close enough to be noticed. She laughs when Debra finishes her sentence.

"Yeah, but everyone thinks he's awful, Deb."

She gestures as she speaks, her knee shifting a few inches toward Dexter. Dexter's fingers pause on the napkin for a second. Then they continue. The phone in the kitchen rings. Harry quietly places the glass on the small table. He stands up. He walks to the kitchen with slow, deliberate steps. The chair scrapes lightly against the linoleum.

"Hello.

A short pause. His voice was too low to reach the room. Debra's voice is still audible from the kitchen. Sophia glances towards the kitchen where Harry is for a second, then looks back at Dexter.