Medora
We might as well call today “A Day with Reign.” I’m on babysitting duty. Sure, the boy’s almost sixteen, but he’s still a child in my eyes. Millie won’t be back from California until tomorrow, so here I am at their house.
“Thank you.”
Reign’s voice cuts through my thoughts as I finish plating breakfast.
“Huh?” I glance up, surprised.
“Thank you. I know it couldn’t have been easy leaving your boyfriend in Seattle to come back to Boston... and letting me see my dad. I never got to say thanks.”
His words are measured, almost calculated. Whatever he’s grateful for happened months ago, which makes me wary.
“Hmm. You’re welcome,” I reply with a shrug, not giving him more than that.
“Why’d you never get married?” His question comes out of nowhere.
“Why hasn’t your mom ever gotten
