Mom's palm cracked against the table so hard it shook.
"That girl is out of control!"
"How old is she now, still throwing tantrums?"
Grandmother set the rib soup on the table and looked at Herbert, her eyes warm and doting.
"If that money pit's really gone, good riddance."
"She's nothing like our Herbert here. So well-behaved, so sensible!"
Dad let out a sigh, his gaze sharp and cold.
"That girl's run off somewhere wild."
"If she comes back tonight, I'll break her legs!"
Dad, I'm never coming back to this house again.
Before dinner, Herbert spotted something on his phone—a circus performing at the town square at eight o'clock. He pointed at the screen, at a lion leaping through a ring of fire, his face lit up with excitement.
"Mom, I wanna go!"
"Sure!"
Mom barely glanced at the screen before agreeing.
During dinner, Herbert happened to look across the table.
That was my seat. It sat empty.
"Mom, where's Kate?"
At the mention of me, Mom placed a peeled shrimp into Herbert's bowl and shot an impatient glance at my empty chair.
"Her? Who knows where she's wandered off to."
"Our little Herbert is the good one—obedient, well-behaved, never makes Mom and Dad worry."
My heart clenched.