Chapter 11: Sunday Dinner

Sasha's POV

On Sunday I walked into my parents' dining room and found my chair taken.

It was the one by the window, at Dad's right hand.

I had sat there since I was old enough to reach the table.

Janie sat in it, in a blue sweater, with a napkin folded in her lap.

"Sasha!" She half rose. "I made the lasagna. I can move. Please, take the seat."

"Sit, Janie," Dylan said. "Sasha can take the end."

I took the end.

Mom came in with a salad bowl and set it down without meeting my eyes.

"We're so glad you came, sweetheart."

"I came for a reason, Mom."

"Of course you did. Let's eat first."

Dylan stood and tapped his glass with his fork.

"A toast," he said. "To Janie, our newest Klingenberg."

"She's been through more this year than anyone should. We're lucky to have her."

"To Janie," Mom said, and her voice was thin.

"To Janie," Dad said, and he drank and didn't look at her.

My phone buzzed against my thigh.

Kirk: "You're in that house and I'm in my kitchen. I can still taste you."

I put my hand over the screen.

Kirk: "I'm going to be thinking about that the whole time you pass the potatoes."

My face was hot.

I typed under the table: "You're a menace."

Kirk: "Come back tonight and I'll show you how much."

I turned the phone over and passed the potatoes.

Keep reading free with an account. Start My Brother Gave Her My Place, So I Stopped Coming Home from Chapter 1, then sign up free to read the rest of this chapter.