My Cousin Read the Headline Out Loud at Thanksgiving

The smell of roasted turkey drifted through my parents’ century-old Victorian home, blending with fresh-baked rolls, cinnamon candles, polished wood, and the familiar feeling that every Thanksgiving eventually became another performance.

I took my usual seat at the far end of the dining table.

The forgotten seat.

No one had assigned it to me.

It had simply continue reading …