The hostess comes to a stop in front of us and I look up. I spot my mother first. Her chair is pushed up close to the man sitting beside her. The sight of the two of them sitting so close together is enough to make me want to turn and run. Mom looks so cozy beside him, as if he actually treats her well. As if he isn’t the reason she’s so damn broken inside. Allen couldn’t even bother to dress up tonight. I would have laughed at the stained Metallica t-shirt he’s wearing if it wasn’t for the anger thumping in my chest. They look as out of place as I feel right now. “We're going home,” I spit,
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