Anastasia’s POV:
“Mama, he took my crayon!”
I did not look up from my laptop.
“Zoe.”
“He took the red one and he knows red is my favorite.”
“Noah.”
“I was using it first.”
“No you weren’t!”
“I was too!”
I closed my laptop.
They were sitting on the studio floor surrounded by enough art supplies to open a small shop and they were both looking at me with the expressions they had inherited from two different sides of the same stubbornness and I looked between them and thought about the meeting I had in forty minutes.
“Noah,” I said. “Give your sister the red crayon.”
“But—”
“Now please.”
He handed it over with the suffering expression of a four year old who had been deeply wronged by the universe and Zoe took it with the satisfaction of a three year old who had won something sign
