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CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 8 “I don’t want to read that one,” Annie says. “Me either,” her brother grumbles. I put the Grover book away and ask Andrew which one he’d like to choose. He crosses his arms. “Something new,” he says with a pout. “We’ve read all these before.” “Why don’t you tell me a story?” I suggest, wondering if the impatience I’m feeling comes through my voice in spite of how hard I’m working to mask it. “I don’t know a*********s,” Andrew complains. I’m at a loss. “Maybe your sister does,” I finally suggest. It’s the only nudge little Annie needs, and in a second she’s rattling off a tale of princesses and dragons in castles. Even with as sheltered as her father has kept her from contemporary movies and worldly influences, she sounds like any other child with the blessed gift of a fan
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