Chapter Seven
Grace peeled the potatoes with such force that more than one poor spud was a mere nub of its former self. Quickly tossing the offending potatoes in the trash so her mother wouldn’t see, she forced herself to peel only the brown peels.
I’m not freaking out. I’m not freaking out. I’m. Not. Freaking. Out.
“Grace, do you know where the potholder is?” her mother Julia asked.
Grace jumped, the peeler clattering into the sink.
“Goodness, you’re so on edge today!” Julia plucked the potholder from around her daughter, giving Grace a concerned look. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Just have a lot on my mind.” Grace turned and began peeling, slowly and without destroying the potato in hand.
Julia didn’t say anything, but Grace could feel her mother’s gaze on the back of her neck.
“We
