The kitchen smelled like garlic, chicken, and the six carrots I’d chopped for two people.
« Dad, » Maya said from the island, « Matthew isn’t even home tonight. »
« I know. »
« So why are you making enough food for everyone? »
« Because your brother will be home tomorrow, and he’ll raid the fridge. »
I pointed the knife toward the carrots. « Nobody has ever regretted having extra roasted carrots. »
« Matthew isn’t even home tonight. »
« I’m 12, and even I know that’s not true. »
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