“Already bringing up the sister you’ll never be?” my father says, stepping into the room beside Christopher. “Just keeping the memory alive of the wife you never loved,” she spars back to him. Asher and I trade unnerved looks. I’ve never heard anyone speak to my father this way, or Asher’s father, for that matter. With how terrified she was, you’d think she would cower, play dead, something. My father doesn’t react like Christopher did. Instead, he gives her a bored glance before turning to face me. “Skyla,” he says with a head dip. “Father,” I say in return. He reaches his hand out for Asher,
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