The next morning on Sunday, I might as well have had a hangover from how sour my mood was. At the kitchen table, I struggled to eat the fried eggs and bacon Dad had prepared for us. Topher ate just fine but definitely had some stuff on his mind. Dad was sort of okay except worried I’d been out drinking. Alessandra seemed the tensest of us all. She formed tight smiles and ate her meal in small bites without making any conversation or even much eye contact.
When Topher finished eating, he didn’t say a word to anyone and simply left the kitchen. He went upstairs and closed his door. I wasn’t sure what went on with him aside from the fact that he was probably still upset about the discovery. I’d gotten home late last night and hadn’t had a chance to talk to him.
God, late last night, and wha
