Thea
“You can do this.” On the other end of the line, I hear the sound of a stoneware plate clinking on a granite countertop and know she’s finished her snack... or she’s given up on it.
“Who won, you or the broccoli?”
“Joke’s on you; it was baby carrots. I ate three.” I can hear the disgust in her voice and hold back a chuckle. She’s never liked vegetables unless they’re potatoes cut thin on the side of her chicken nuggies.
Sometimes I wonder if she’s actually an adult or if she’s just a kid trapped in a woman’s body.
“I'll call you later and let you know how it went. Love you, bye.”
With that, I end the call and look up at the mansion again. At least Mr.
Thorpe knows how to live well - this house is stunning. The stacked stone exterior screams money and taste, and I can’t help but
