BEAUTIFULLY UNFAITHFULLY
Lilibeth muttered around her apple.
The kitchen went entirely silent.
Amanda stopped her theatrical searching of my pantry, a box of artisanal cheese crackers frozen in her hand. For all her sassy banter, she knew the exact boundaries of the minefield Lilibeth was walking through.
"Lili, honey," Amanda stepped in smoothly, her tone casual but firm. "Your dad handles billions of dollars, and your mom handles the minds of future generations, when people are operating at that level, sometimes one of them snores, or one of them needs to read at three in the morning without a light waking the other up. It’s called an adult arrangement."