My father’s voice cracked through the living room like a whip:
“You’re grounded until you apologize to your stepmom.”
Every conversation in the house stopped. My stepbrother, Connor, looked at me with wide eyes. My stepmom, Linda, folded her arms with that tight, victorious smile she gave whenever Dad took her side. The rest of the family—cousins, uncles, people I barely saw more than once a year—sat stunned and unsure whether to watch or look away.
