The rest of the conversation was all about Hank and his paintings. It was a real bore and I couldn’t handle listening to it. Although, when my mom caught me looking completely unenthused, she shot a look, so I pretended that I liked hearing about Hank’s artwork and his years as a painter.
Lily was super nice and asked lots of questions, Troy piped up occasionally and made some witty remarks. Me, I remained silent. I didn’t like people hiding behind my back, telling secrets, and my mom had kept this one for quite some time; she was going to have to explain herself.
When Hank excused himself to go to the bathroom after we had finished eating, Mom spun her head, scowled at me, and whispered harshly, “What is your problem?”
“My problem?” I whispered in return, “You’ve had this super-secret
