I’m not sure what I just walked into.
As I round the corner and stride into the kitchen, whatever conversation Amy and Dad are having ends abruptly. The only thing I hear Dad say is, “You need to tell her, Amy. She needs to know.”
When they see me, they instantly break apart, and Amy turns back to the stove where she’s stirring something in a pot. Something that smells good. Dad’s firmly crossed arms instantly drop to his sides when he sees me. Eying them both curiously, I make my way to the refrigerator and pull out a can of soda.
“What’s going on?” I ask. “Tell who what?”
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