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“Here.” Arrick hands me the salad bowl around my mom’s table where everyone is eating, barely looking me in the eye and avoids touching me when I slide the bowl out of his grip. I told him I didn’t want anyone to know beyond Jake and Emma right now and I want to act normal and enjoy being home for once. Just one normal afternoon before I single out my mother and talk to her. I know he’s told Jake from the beginning; I mean I always knew he would. He tells him everything and Jake would have told Emma, so even though I haven’t had a chance to talk to her yet, I can tell by her glances my way that she knows.

We are playing polite and nice, idle chit chat with a table of mixed Carrero and Huntsbergers who all appeared for food when they found out we were here. Arrick and I are masters of appearing unemotional and fine; we are doing it to Oscar winning standards and no one seems to be any wiser to the fact we are barely able to look at each othe