She’s as innocent as can be, but she smarts back, like at the gas station when we first met and last night when she tried to convince me to fuck her.

It’s good that she has bite and speaks her mind. She’ll have no problem handling when my inner asshole shines through after walking a straight fucking line all day in order to appease everyone around me.

My current mood is courtesy of her having prior plans with her dad and me getting a text from Marina guilting me into coming to the house for dinner.

I shift the car into park and cut the engine, sitting, and staring at the house through the windshield. I unlatch my seat belt and pop the door open. With one foot planted on the ground, the other stays firmly inside the vehicle. My hesitation to attend this dinner comes from months of building my tolerance for avoidance. It was better not to see too much of my family than for them to see the pain I was going through. I wasn’t going to add to the devastation of what happened.

I’ve mastered the character flaw of avoidance, but I always was a fast learner.

The door opens and Marina steps out, looking right at me. Standing there on the brick landing, she leans against the railing. She shakes her head but then smiles and waves me in.

After a great night with Lark, I’m not in the mood to disappoint anyone today, especially not my sister. The way she viewed me never changed. That’s the bliss of youth. The dirty details are left out of the conversation when a story is explained.

“Come on, Har. I want to show you something.”

I get out and make my way up the steps. “I’m coming. I’m coming,” I reply, sounding a lot like an old man. Closing the door behind me, I follow her into the kitchen.

“Hey, Mom.” I come around the island just as she turns around.

“Harbor.” Her arms go out to bring me into a hug. “I’m so happy to see you.”

She holds me tight, and for a minute, I’m reminded how she always made me feel loved. If I wouldn’t have lied to protect Lucas’s memory, I know I wouldn’t have left home. But I had to because Mom would have seen right through me. Now I only grant her glimpses. “Happy to see you, too.”

She leans back and takes a good look at me. “You look tired but happy.” My mom notices every little detail about her family. If I let her look closer, she might even see Lark hanging around my thoughts tonight. “Oh, to be young. I just look tired these days.” She laughs as she stirs what looks like a soup on the stove.

“You look beautiful, as always,” I say, knowing she’ll never believe me as if it’s my job to tell her what she wants to hear since I’m her kid. But it’s the truth—my mother is the embodiment of grace and class. Plus, she’s basically a saint for dealing with us four kids. I’m quickly waved off, exactly as expected.