Kayla smirked at her plate.
No comment necessary. I smiled the smile that keeps plates from shattering. “You’re probably right.”
Mom patted my hand like she might do for a dog who’d had an accident.
“We just want what’s best for you, sweetie.”
Here’s the thing about being the family’s acceptable disappointment. It’s not one betrayal. It’s a thousand tiny edits to your name until not enough fits on one line.
The story doesn’t end here — it continues on the next page.
Tap READ MORE to discover the rest 🔎👇
