"Why do grown-ups always lie?" The silence in the room was broken by Mia's tiny, startlingly keen voice.
I was standing near the window when I turned, and her small form curled up on the couch caught my attention. Her brows were knitted in a manner far too solemn for a six-year-old, and she was clutching her favorite pet rabbit.
"Who lied to you, Mia?" I approached and sat down on the couch's edge to ask.
She gazed up at me, her large brown eyes brimming with something I couldn't quite identify—confusion, despair, perhaps. "Not me. You. Concerning Cath.
I was momentarily unable to react as her words struck me like a sucker punch. "What do you mean, Mia?"
Her lips pressed into a narrow line as she gave the rabbit a firmer hug. "You're upset with her, but you're not sure why. Last night
