“Lucky you. Now you get to spend quality time with the girls you wish were your daughters”
“Where are you off to?” I try to strike just the right balance, exuding friendly interest but not clingy overprotection.
Apparently, I fail dismally.
Devora barely looks up. “Out.” Her voice is flat, but her lip curls, that familiar shield of disdain snapping into place. “I need the car keys.”
A dozen sharp retorts rise to the surface. Who said I don’t need the car? Why do you assume you can just take whatever you want, whenever you want?
I shove them all down.
“Devora, where are you going?”
She exhales, exasperated. “It’s not like there are tons of options near this pathetic camp. Walmart. Maybe bowling.”
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