EMILY'S POV
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Stirring the spinach while frying the steak right beside it makes me feel like I'm overheating. "Hmm, it smells good in here," my mother yawns as she strides in, her feet dragging behind her. She took a long nap, and that gave me the opportunity to go out and get groceries. "I'm making some steak and spinach, the salad is done and in the fridge." I beam. "You went to get groceries?" her face is long, concern filling her eyes as she strides over to the fridge, opening it up to it being fully stocked. "Yes, I hope you don't mind," I shrug.
"I said I'd get it," her stern tone surprised me, and I put the lid on the spinach, turning to face her, "Mother, I just got some food. I didn't buy you a car." I retort. "You don't need to buy...", "Mother!" I interrupt her, slamming my
