Sherry leans toward Annika and squeezes her hand. “It’s okay, I’ve got a nephew who’s a lot like you.” For possibly the first time in our lives, Annika and I share the exact same shocked expression. Hers soon gives way to mortifying embarrassment, and she gets up from the table and rushes from the dining room.
We try so hard to play parts. Annika felt she failed at her role.
