I placed down the plates in front of Mother and Father.
Amelia carried three. One for Jake, one for herself, and finally for me.
When all the plates were set, we sat down.
“This looks wonderful, Amelia,” Jake said, smiling at her – not at me. Didn’t he see me helping? Why was Amelia the one to get all the credit?
“Very good,” Father said.
They all lifted their forks and started cutting into the meat. Amelia had also added peas and a potato as sides, complete with a buttered roll. It did all look really good, and it smelled good too, which really made me mad.
Was there anything Amelia wasn’t good at?
Then, finally, Amelia lifted her knife and started to cut into her meat. Not wanting to appear too eager, I did the same. At the same time, we both lifted our pieces to our mouths, chewe
