Silence. A whole-ass vacuum of silence. Even Amber, who had been twitching like she was ready to fry someone alive, stops moving.
Alan is the first to recover. “…Come again?”
Dad leans forward, completely unbothered by our collective existential crisis. “Your 14th Christmas. I remember it perfectly. You three were little menaces, and I—”
“Okay, hold up,” Aaron cuts in, rubbing his temples. “You mean to tell me the last six years? Poof. Gone. But you remember Christmas when we were fourteen?”
Dad nods enthusiastically. “Of course! That was the year you set the Christmas tree on fire.”
Oh. Oh, no.
Aaron groans, already seeing where this is going. “For f**k’s sake, that’s insane.”
Amber raises an eyebrow. “You set the tree on fire?”
I clear my throat. “Technically, Aaron set the tree
