head down on the table and mumbled loudly. ‘He’s not good enough for you.’ Crystal sat up. Kismet’s face had hardened almost imperceptibly. Now it was like they both had poker hands and were trying not to show their tells. Kismet broke first and took the mugs to the sink. ‘He really loves me, Mom,’ she said, looking out the window into their scorched brown sacred yard. I am a dumbass, Crystal thought.
