My stepbrother
Once we’re done eating, we snuggle on the blanket and just lay in silence.
“Oh, one more thing,” Maija says, pulling away from my arms. I look at her puzzled as she reaches behind the couch, pulls a gift wrap, and hands it to me. I look at it awkwardly because I know it’s a book from the feel of it, and even though I love when she reads to me, I'm not a book person.
“It’s not a gift. I am just returning something to its rightful owner.” That statement confuses me more, the rightful owner?