Kathryn
12
“Mom, just look at the brochure.”
It was a foggy autumn day in early October. The mums and Russian sage were still prolific, and Kathryn had put some in every room of the house. But this morning, even cheery colors on the kitchen table weren’t enough to banish what was blowing in just now. Heather thrust the glossy catalog at Kathryn.
Kathryn wanted to eat her toast and pear hazelnut jam in peace. Heather had ruined her breakfast. Once again, she was spouting off about leaving the farm.
“Can we talk about this later? I’m eating, Heather.” Kathryn closed her eyes and violently chewed her next bite of toast. If her eyes were open, undoubtedly she’d see Heather roll hers or give her one of those death glares from her teenage years. For some reason, they’d been making a comebac
