Claire never looked at me.
“I’m asking questions, Emma.”
“You’re picking at him.”
She glanced toward the dining room, where Ethan was laughing with my father.
“Maybe you should ask yourself why he makes me want to.”
That sentence stayed with me.
When I mentioned it to Ethan during the drive home, he simply shrugged.
“Maybe your sister just doesn’t like me.”
He said it so casually that I felt foolish for bringing it up.
Looking back, that may have been the first moment something shifted.
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