Ethan
.
.
As my father’s lips parted, the door swung open.
“Dinner is ready,” Victoria said.
She didn’t even wait for us to reply before she turned and strode down the corridor.
“We’ll discuss this later,” he said before rolling his chair.
My father and I headed to the dining area that was in the kitchen.
The sweet aroma of cooked chicken lingered in the air.
“I made rice and chicken broth,” Victoria said, “your father said that was your favorite.”
I smiled and said thank you even though it wasn’t my favorite anymore.
My father rolled his chair into his spot, while I dropped onto the seat beside him.
Victoria stopped beside the table, a little embarrassed. “I’m all sticky from the cooking,” she said, “I have to slip out of this.”
Looking at her outfit, there were yellow stai
