I didn’t finish the threat, because I didn’t know what an appropriate punishment for someone who wasn’t even three years old was. This was only my third day here, and my first day looking after my cousins without an adult nearby. Usually I’d threaten to grab Aunt Linda or Uncle Raymond. But they were out God-knew-where with my parents. So here I was, trying to run a dictatorship while my two citizens were staging a coup.
The napkin began to fall apart. It was dark red, and so were my hands, and I was starting to think I might vomit. What the hell had Crista done? Should I take her to a clinic? Would she lose her leg? Should I call Aunt Linda? Or 911?
A shadow fell over us, and out of nowhere, someone was kneeling by my side. “Hey,” the someone said. “Do you need a hand? It doesn’t look l
