At 2 P.M., I Walked Into My Parents’ Backyard Expecting To Pick Up My 8-

escaped me before I could stop it.

“Cut the act,” I said, standing up. “You didn’t come here for Amelia.”

My mother flinched. Gavin scowled.

“You think we’d only show up because of some stupid letter?” Gavin snapped.

I turned to him, my voice cold.

“This isn’t your business.”

He opened his mouth to argue again, but I raised a hand.

“No. You don’t get to come continue reading …