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My mother’s expression changed first. Her polished dinner-party smile slipped away, revealing pure panic underneath.
“I’m not being dramatic,” I replied. “I’m sitting with the kids, remember?”
A few younger cousins snickered. Tyler, who was twelve and definitely old enough to understand what was happening, whispered, “Oh, dang.”
“No,” I said calmly. “You already spoke to me publicly.”
That made Uncle Rob finally lower his fork. Aunt Diane studied the tablecloth like it contained legal advice. Emily looked helplessly between me, my mother, and Brandon, whose smile had disappeared entirely.
“You knew this was the arrangement,” she hissed.
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