“Micah, please, stop running. You’ll break something—” I tried to keep my voice calm, but my lips were dry, my throat raw.
“I don’t want to!” she screamed back, grabbing confetti from the floor and throwing it in the air like it was her throne. She tripped on the rug, fell, then let out a wail loud enough to shake the windows.
I squeezed my eyes shut. I didn’t even know what stories Sasha had poisoned her ears with. All of them—my husband, my daughter, Nico—they looked at me like I was the intruder here. The villain in my own home.
“Don’t cry, baby. Aunt Sasha’s here.” Sasha’s voice drifted through the hallway as she scooped Micah up, kissing her forehead like she was the savior of this family. She turned her head just enough to look at me, her eyes glinting with that same mocking pity she always wore like perfume.
Mike and Nico came stomping in. “What did you do this time?” Mike barked.
I didn’t even flinch. I just went back to picking up broken glasses. “She was making a mess. I just asked her to stop.”
Nico snorted. “God, you’re so dramatic. Can’t even handle a kid. No wonder everyone’s fed up with you.”