"Greta," she said, dryly, "You're not cutting onions."
"I know," I called out, my voice wobbling as I pointed a finger in her direction. "I blame you."
She flashed a smile before turning back to her task. "Don't you dare start calling me onions. I've noticed your odd habit for assigning weird nicknames to everything."
"WHAT? Me? How dare you, Onions? I have no idea what you're talking about," I sobbed, feeling the tears well up as I fought to keep the mood light.
"I know I'm worried about Beth..." she started.
"So we're just ignoring the whole 'Onions' thing?" I interrupted, raising an eyebrow. She cast me a flat, unimpressed look, but I refused to back down.
"And honestly," she continued, her voice growing more serious, "it's the thing that concerns me most. But Greta, don't y
