Tabitha’s POV

I don’t know how I made it through that dinner, but somehow I did. The moment it ended, I bolted straight to my room and stayed there until noon the next day, hiding like a cockroach under a rock.

When lunch comes, I tell my mom I’m feeling sick when she comes to ask why I didn’t join them at the table. It feels exactly like being back in high school, too lazy to go to class and pretending to be sick just to get a free pass.

She walks over and lays her hand on my forehead. “You’re a bit warm, my poor darling,” she murmurs, brushing...