The wine was cheap, but it was cold. And honestly, that’s all I cared about after the week I’d had.
My dad was shuffling the Phase 10 cards like he was dealing high stakes poker, and my mom kept snatching sips of her rosé between rounds, laughing at her own terrible jokes. The sky outside the kitchen window had already turned dusky purple, and the cicadas were singing like they had something to prove.
It felt good. Too good.
Which meant my brain, of course, had to ruin it.
I leaned back in my chair, swirling what was left in my glass. “Have you two ever wondered where I came from?”
My mom’s smile softened—but didn’t fall. That was her tell. She was already preparing the gentle dodge.
“We’ve always just felt lucky,” she said, setting her cards down. “Whatever path brought you to us, w
