Clara finally looked up, her eyes bright with a sharp, familiar cruelty. “Being the adult or being the jailer, El? Because from where I’m sitting, you’re just holding onto this house so you have something to complain about.”
“You didn’t have to come,” Elena said, her voice a flat line.
“I’m doing what needs to be done,” Elena said, turning to face her. “Someone has to be the adult. That hasn’t changed since we were ten.”
“Move over,” Clara muttered, though her tone had softened. “The caramel is sticking.”
Outside, the porch swing creaked in the wind—the same rhythm that had lulled them to sleep as children. Back then, they had been a team. Now, they were just two strangers who knew exactly where the other’s armor was thinnest.
“Mom called,” Clara replied. “She said you were martyring yourself again.”
Clara finally looked up, her eyes bright with a sharp, familiar cruelty. “Being the adult or being the jailer, El? Because from where I’m sitting, you’re just holding onto this house so you have something to complain about.”
“You didn’t have to come,” Elena said, her voice a flat line. Clara finally looked up, her eyes bright with
“I’m doing what needs to be done,” Elena said, turning to face her. “Someone has to be the adult. That hasn’t changed since we were ten.” “I’m doing what needs to be done,” Elena
“Move over,” Clara muttered, though her tone had softened. “The caramel is sticking.” “The caramel is sticking
Outside, the porch swing creaked in the wind—the same rhythm that had lulled them to sleep as children. Back then, they had been a team. Now, they were just two strangers who knew exactly where the other’s armor was thinnest.
“Mom called,” Clara replied. “She said you were martyring yourself again.”