My Brother-In-Law Borrowed My Phone At Dinner

dollars and seventy-two cents,” he said. “That’s not a misunderstanding.”

The number hit the room like a thrown brick.

Denise looked at me then. Really looked.

For half a second, I saw my sister. The girl who used to braid my hair too tight before school. The one who hid Pop-Tarts under her mattress because Mom wouldn’t buy the frosted kind. The one who continue reading …