LAURA

“You shouldn’t be on your feet, Laura,” Mom called from the kitchen, speaking directly to me this time. “Go sit down.”

I rolled my eyes. Was she tired of gossiping?

“Someone has to set the table.”

“I’ll do it,” Alex volunteered for what had to be the sixtieth time since we’d arrived. 

“No.” I wasn’t going to change my mind so he might as well stop asking. “You barely let me do anything at home. You keep that up and I’m going to fade away!”

In my periphery, I caught the both of them exchanging glances at my slightly raised tone. I scowled, my previous amusement at the both...