Chapter 3
“Did you have a nice night out with your friends?” My mom asked me after I finally walked into the kitchen at nine AM. Turning to face me with an egg-covered spatula in one hand, she was happy as always and smiling. “And are you hungry?”
“I’m starving.” Covering my mouth to yawn, I retrieved a glass from the cupboard and walked to the fridge. “And yeah, it was fun.”
“Good.” She turned back to the stove and continued to cook, humming the whole time as I filled my glass with orange juice. When I stepped up next to her to see if she wanted help, she shooed me away with a cluck of her tongue. “It’s your birthday. Go sit down and it will be ready soon.”
“Okay, okay.”
On a typical day I would insist, and she would give in, but not today. I knew from past years that she refused to
