Chapter 51: Gravel Road-Miranda

The screen door slammed behind me. Over the years, I'd grown so used to the rattling when it would bounce off the frame and settle shut that I didn't notice the footsteps approaching in the kitchen. It was an old farmhouse, and I'd long since learned to ignore the creaks and pops. As a little girl, the noises kept me up, and I had always been convinced someone lurked in the house, roaming the halls late at night.

I ducked my head into the fridge to search for orange juice. When I realized I had company, I stood, stepped back with the carton in my hand, and came face to face with my sister's scowl. Then I noticed her tapping foot. I cracked open the container, brought it to my lips-it drove her insane-and drank more than I actually wanted, simply to irritate her. I flashed my brows at her, the citrus burning my throat. And when I finally plopped it on the counter, I let out a satisfied sigh, followed by an obnoxious burp.