Evelyn
Once Alexander and I are sure that I can walk on my own, I go down the hall to see my mom. I knock quietly on her door, and Emma opens it for me.
My friend rests her fist on her hip and c***s an eyebrow. “You didn’t tell me your mom is a pro at Spackle.”
Surprised, I look into the room to where my mom is sitting at a table with seven cards in her hands. In the days I was back at home with her, there was no way she could have had the mental presence to play such a complex game.
“She’s… beating you?” I ask Emma, watching Mom’s eyes dart between us.
“Four games in a row!” Emma replies.
I lean forward, lowering my voice so only Emma can hear me. “Are you letting her win?” I honestly don’t understand this.
“The first two games, yes,” Emma murmurs. “After that, my ego couldn’t take
