My Brother-In-Law Borrowed My Phone At Dinner

through the garage carrying her purse under one arm and a foil-covered plate in both hands, like the crisis needed leftover ham.

“What is happening?” she said.

Nobody answered fast enough, so she looked at me.

Of course.

“What did you do?”

I felt something in my face go still.

Denise sobbed harder.

Brandon pointed at me. “She called the cops on family.”

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