“Of course she can stay,” he said. “We’ll figure something out.”
Kayla cried again.
“You two are saving my life.”
Andrew smiled.
“Let’s start with getting you settled. We can worry about the rest tomorrow.”
For the first week, everything went well.
Kayla helped with dinner, watched television with us, and thanked Andrew every time he fixed something around the house.
She seemed quieter than usual, but I understood. Six years was a long time to spend building a life with someone, only to discover that he no longer wanted it.
I wanted my sister to feel safe.
I wanted her to recover.
And I certainly didn’t want her to feel as though she had to compete with me for a place in my home.
Then came the towel.
The first morning, I walked into the kitchen and found Kayla standing by the refrigerator in a bath towel, searching for orange juice.
