He looked at me, and in a voice so low I nearly missed it, he said, “That’s not my sister.”
Daniel gave a tired laugh. “Buddy, come on.”
But Max was already backing away.
“I want to go to my room.”
I remember trading that look with Daniel.
The parental one. Here we go.
Daniel rolled his eyes a little and mouthed, Jealous.
I nodded because it tracked.
It fit. It was easy.
That first night, Max wouldn’t come down to dinner until I physically walked him downstairs.