Adea has been living with us for two weeks now. She’s nothing like how I remember. It’s hard not to try and put her into the same box as the version of her I know. In this life, she is clumsy and no matter how hard she tries, she keeps making a mess. Her food isn’t too bad, but I try to avoid her as much as possible. Keeping my distance is hard because Mavy drags me along when they hang out. I pretend I don’t want to, but I like it when she makes me go. I’m sitting in my room throwing my basketball up into the air and catching it when Mom knocks on my door. She opens the door and peeks her head in.
“Your father needs to speak with you,” she said.
My throat constricts and I clench my jaw. Sitting up, I drop the ball to the floor and stand to my feet as it bounces. Mom steps out of the roo
