I made pie crust so flaky.
For a while, I thought we might be okay.
Then something changed.
Almost overnight, Chloe became distant.
At dinner, she barely spoke to me.
She avoided being alone in the same room.
One night, while David and I were doing dishes, I asked,
“Is Chloe all right? She barely looked at me tonight.”
David shrugged.
“She’s seventeen. School, boys, grief. Don’t take everything personally.”
“Did something happen?”
“I’ll talk to her.”
That became the pattern.
I noticed something.
I asked David.
He told me
