I Asked the Waiter for One Change, and My Brother Finally Choked

lobby, Janine came out carrying her purse and one of those white bakery boxes restaurants use for dessert leftovers.

Not for her.

For Noah.

She held it out to him. “They packed up the chocolate tart. Your cousins had already poked theirs with forks, so this one’s untouched.”

Noah looked at me. I nodded.

“Thanks,” he said.

Janine crouched down so she was continue reading …