Don’t Tell Our Parents
Standing in the shadows behind their couch on our end of the screen was Leon, his arms crossed over his chest, waiting like a vulture for the carcass to drop.
"Lael. Avery," Richard's voice boomed through the speakers, deep and resonant even across an ocean. "I assume Leon filled you in on the disgusting garbage floating around the internet today."
"He did," Lael answered smoothly, his grip on my shoulder subtly tightening. "And frankly, Dad, it's pathetic that you're taking a tabloid blog seriously enough to summon us like criminals."