Chapter Eleven
‘It’s worse than you think,’ said Dad.
He and I cleaned up the broken glass and asked Ransom to let his adopted parents know what had happened. Luckily they were out visiting friends at the time.
We went home and sat across from each other in our own kitchen, on the least comfortable bench seats in the world. I could still smell my burnt toast from before the Ageing.
My left thumb had a tiny cut from picking up shattered glass. It itched. I couldn’t stop scratching it, even though that made it worse. At least if I was looking at my hand, I couldn’t meet Dad’s gaze.
‘Despite your performance at the Ageing, in my eyes you’re an adult now.’
I continued staring at the wooden table top. ‘Is this where you tell me adults make mistakes too, or that I need to finally start bei
