Chapter 18Aunt Betsy had one of those annoying voices, the type of voice that could wake a slumbering ghost. “Lani,” she shrieked across the room, “Why don't you walk Bentley?”
It took a lot more than the sound of her aunt's vocal acrobatics to make her sick. Most of all, she missed her mom and dad. Plus, she didn't want to go to that park anymore. Not since, she had found out about Peter's brother. She missed Peter too and her heart felt like it had landed in a wood chipper. Though, she imagined the noisy pulverizing mechanism turning, it hadn't completely shredded her heart into microscopic pieces; not yet, anyway. Things had to get better. Her heart felt more as if it were in the process of shredding—an active verb–rather than a painful memory of the past. Her aunt's timing impeccable,
