Iridian
Zack cheered, “Do you think they’ll have potions there? Get me a potion that turns me into a bird! Or a dragon! Do you think they’d let me come? Oh, I’d love to come with you!”
“Nonsense, Zack. Rachel’s not going.” Mom snapped, anger flashing in the depths of her eyes. Her shoulders rise and fell, the product of her heavy breathing. Dad seemed to be in silent agreement with Mom, as he often was when it came to conflict.
“Why can’t she go!” Zack whined, “She got an invitation, Mom! The Game Master picked Rachel!”
“Enough, Zack.” Mom snapped, her eyes flashing dangerously. Zack cowered in his chair, meeting my eyes with child-like sadness.
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