Vanessa.She stood beside me with several bowls of salad in her hands. Behind her, cooking pots filled with meat covered almost every available space in my kitchen. For a few seconds, I simply stared at her, unable to understand what I was seeing.“What are you doing in my kitchen?” I finally asked. Vanessa looked at me as though I had asked the most ridiculous question in the world. “What exactly do you think I’m doing?” she replied.I looked around the kitchen again. Food was being prepared everywhere. Pots were on the stove, plates were stacked on the counter, and the smell of different dishes filled the air. “I’m asking because I had no idea about any of this arrangement,” I said, trying to keep my voice calm. “And you’re cooking in my kitchen.”Vanessa scoffed. “Mira, why are you so bitter?” she asked. “A little child is celebrating his birthday in his father’s house, and you’re already in pain because of it?”My heart sank. “That’s not what I. ”Before I could finish, Vanessa tu
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