Chapter 6
They knew. I could see it in their faces, in their agitated motions, in the way they wouldn’t look me in the eye. But they didn’t say anything. Not a word.
“Mom would tell us if he was just ‘getting better’ again.” I couldn’t say the word rehab out loud. “What happened to him?”
Uncle Flip stole the steaming pot of potatoes from the stove and drained the boiling water into the sink. Every time I watched someone else doing that, I held my breath because I was so afraid they’d burn their fingers. That’s what always happened to me when I drained potatoes.
Aunt Libby bent halfway into the oven to bring out her heavy red casserole dish. She’d made chicken thighs in mushroom soup, a staple in my family, but the meal overheated the cottage. I was sweating through my T-shirt,
