“That’s an understatement,” Serenity muttered.
Emma knelt on her knees in her aunt’s kitchen, scrubbing the floor with a rag that wasn’t any cleaner than the filth covered linoleum. Raphael stood in the corner with his arms crossed in front of his huge chest, glowering at her aunt. Of course, Mildred couldn’t see him, and it was hard for Emma not to talk to him. His brooding presence was doing nothing for the gloomy atmosphere. As soon as Mildred had shut the door on Emma’s friends, she’d turned her hate-filled eyes on Emma. For a brief moment, she was sure that her aunt was going to hit her, and in turn, Raphael was going to do something as equally distasteful to Mildred. But instead she just started barking orders: clean this, scrub that, dust this, pick up over there. Emma had decided
