“Oh really?” Caoimhe’s eyes danced with mischief. “What kind of questions, Claire?” “Like what’s her favorite color, and does she like dinosaurs, and who’s her favorite author, and does she talk about him at school,” my sister replied with a snicker. “He even draws her pictures, and writes little notes, and makes me bring them to school for her.” Groaning, I fought the urge to run upstairs and die from my shame in private.
