Phil’s POV
“That boy.” Mom was shaking her head, chopping angrily while I stirred the rice.
This was where I had to keep a straight face. She’d get mad if she saw me smiling like an i***t as I chopped downward, creating air pockets in the rice, shutting the lid tight again.
“What do you see in him?” she demanded.
I bit my cheek, setting the spoon down, turning to find her glaring at me.
I hadn’t planned on coming downstairs, honestly.
But I could hear her banging away, pots and pans, and knew she was preparing some food for tomorrow since she’d have a late shift at work. Now here we were making san cocho and rice. It was a quick go-to that should last a few days anyway—especially now that Theo isn’t around to eat everything in sight.
“Well?” she presse
