“Are you on the payroll?” “No, ma’am,” Gracie said with more assertiveness than I had ever heard her muster. “Is that kid your responsibility?” she pressed. “No, ma’am!” “If he wants to be a problem, what are you gonna do?” Cassandra snapped. But it wasn’t a question spawned out of irritation. She was a coach. A drill sergeant. Gracie beamed. “Let him run around on fire.” Cassandra blinked at Gracie, stunned, before turning to sit back in her seat. “This family is so weird.”
