"You're doing it again, sweetheart."I looked up from my plate, my brows furrowed. "Doing what?""Picking out all the vegetables.""I don't consider onions as real food," I defended.Mum gave me an amused smile, shaking her head. "You loved them when you were young.""I've changed my mind."She slid her plate over to me. "Give them to me, then. I won't let you waste it."I scraped the onions onto her plate, and she happily took them, just as we had done countless dinners before.My father sat across us, his eyes stuck on a pile of papers, food untouched. Mum looked at him, her expression softening."Honey, you should join Wren and I for tennis tomorrow."He didn't respond for a few seconds. "You're both terrible at it.""We've been practising," she nudged me. "Isn't that right?"I smiled. "We have."He didn't respond to us, nor did he look up from his papers.My eyes drifted back to my food, and next to my plate, I could see Mum's fist clench. I knew what was coming after that. It was
Last Updated : 2026-11-09 Read more