I wipe at my eyes. “I was telling Dad it feels like it’s been so long since we had a family dinner, and I’ve missed it, that’s all.” My mom’s question finally sinks in, and I glance between my parents. “Tell me what?” They share a look, and it makes my stomach drop. It’s not a typical look they share, filled with affection or warmth, understanding or passion. It’s a look of defeat. “What is it?” My mind is whirring. My subconscious kicking into high gear, thinking up every possible scenario. They’re moving. My dad lost his job. One of them is sick. Like really sick.
They are getting a divorce
