“Woah! Slow down there, Stace.” My sister came gliding to a stop, her bright red shoes squeaking against the tiled floor, making us aware of her presence.
I caught her by the arm before she hit the table with her head.
“Did Mother tell you to bugger off?”, I chided her, earning a cheeky smile from her. “What did you do now?”
“Absolutely nothing. Your mother is just uptight, isn’t she Stacy?”, my father interjected, immediately taking the mischievous soon-to-be teenager’s side.
“See Daniel, Papa is always right. Because he takes my side. And my side is always right”, she added on, struggling to haul herself onto the chair next to me.
I couldn’t help but chuckle out loud, earning a glare from her. She beckoned to me to help her up to the seat.
“Miss Right can seat herself”, I replied,
