Mr. Cromwell insisted on family dinners. They were always awkward, but tonight, with everything that had happened, that hit an epic high. A thick tension clung to the entire table.

“Yuck.” Olivia pushed the peas around on her plate with her fork.

I sighed and wondered if blowing chunks across the table would get me excused. Olivia had been kept in the dark about last night’s events, which was the only thing Cromwell had done I could agree with. My chunky sweater covered the bandage around my arm.

“Peas are gross,” Gabe said.

“Gabriel,” Liz warned. “Peas are not gross, Olivia. They help you grow up to be big…”

I blocked her out at that point and tried to manage what I hoped would be an inconspicuous glance across the table. Except, when I did look, Hayden stared right back at me, slouched in his chair, jaw clenched. He hadn’t even touched his plate. Averting my gaze, I accidentally settled on Phoebe. Her hands clenched the edge of the table. I couldn’t believe that she still sat here, at dinner, after everything she’d done. Stupidly, a part of me felt bad for her, and I hoped someone would get her help.

Parker, as always, had his nose in a book. He hadn’t even looked up when Olivia knocked over her glass of milk when I tried to get her to not throw her peas.

I sank in my seat. This dinner couldn’t get any worse.

“Peas!” Olivia flicked a spoonful toward Gabe. In turn, Gabe threw a biscuit at her plate. She took a bite and erupted into giggles, chunks of bread falling from her mouth.

Cromwell lured Hayden into a discussion about which football teams would be playing on Thanksgiving Day while Olivia and Gabe continued their food play.

“Can we go like we did last year?” Phoebe asked Hayden. “We could leave Wednesday afternoon and stay over.”

My ears pricked up. They were talking about the parade in the city the big one. Would Cromwell let her go after everything she’d done?

Hayden’s eyes flicked away from his plate. “I don’t know. I don’t really feel up to it this year.”

“Come on. It’ll be fun.” She pouted. “I could really get away.”

I tried to act like I wasn’t listening, but the moment I looked up, Hayden and I locked eyes. He was the first to look away.

Finally Cromwell seemed to hear what Phoebe was suggesting. “I do not believe that will be possible this year, Phoebe.”

Phoebe opened her mouth, then clamped it shut. Her gaze, full of accusation, drifted to me like I was the reason she was in trouble.

I wanted to throw my peas at her.