I set the table as my mother finishes up dinner. She chats on and on about the things I've packed—clothes, necessities, and other small belongings—as I set out plates and cutlery. Dad is sitting at the end of the table reading some papers, for once home on time for dinner. Of course, it has to be my last dinner. "Oh, set out five plates, Brigie," my mother calls. "I invited Lindsey. I thought you would want to spend some time with her before you leave tomorrow. You have plenty to catch her up on." "Like how I'm leaving the pack? She'll love that," I say to myself. My dad peers up from his papers and sighs. "I know this is a big change, but it will be good for you," he says. "A new scenery and new people might be nice." "It will be very nice," mom adds.
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