Dad, of course, just sits with his arms crossed, waiting for me. Everyone continues to sit quietly, idly working on making decorations or wrapping gifts, pretending they’re not listening as intently as they are.
I scowl at all of them – even Jackson, who is pretending to be very interested in the perfectly-stacked logs for the fire. Gossip vultures, each and every one. But they all pretend not to notice.
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