CHAPTER 8
Kennedy always assumed Uno was a game of pure chance, which was a statistic impossibility given how many games Woong won in a row. They had eaten up the entire pot of soup, and Woong had finished off the leftover lasagna, too. Carl and Sandy were due back in less than an hour. The house was disastrous, but at least the day with Woong had gone relatively smoothly.
“You got any other games you want to play instead?” she asked after Woong beat her for the sixth or seventh time at Uno.
“Hmm.” Woong pouted. “Maybe Battleship?”
“Sure. Why not?” At the very least, it was a nice way to procrastinate from having to work on that next load of dishes.
Woong had just put the cards away, and the two of them were setting up their battle stations when someone knocked on the front door.
“Is
