The old floorboards of the one-bedroom apartment groaned as Raelynn paced, the phone pressed to her ear. Outside, the night was quiet, but inside, a storm was brewing. Chloe watched from the couch, a half-eaten bag of chips in her lap, her eyes full of silent questions while she pressed her phone.
"Mom, I don't know," Raelynn said, her voice a low, frustrated whisper. "I just don't think it's a good idea."
On the other end of the line, Savannah Grace's voice was a practiced balm, laced with a plea Raelynn hadn’t heard since her father died. "Raelynn, honey. We've talked about this. This is important to me."
"I know it's important, but… a family dinner? It's just too much. I'm busy. I have plans."
"Plans?" Savannah scoffed gently. "What plans could you possibly have that are more import
