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thick as her confidence.
When my son sl:apped me for interrupting his video game, I just lowered my head and walked to the kitchen. I spent three hours baking his favorite triple-chocolate cake
“Evan says you’re changing the will,” she said casually.
There it was.
The little knife beneath the silk.
I poured batter into another pan. “He talks about my will?”
“He worries about you. You’re alone. Forgetful. Emotional.” She tapped her red nail against the counter. “People like you get taken advantage of.”
I laughed softly.
