Chapter 11

“Enough.” I didn’t have to raise my voice. Both kids snapped their mouths shut and stared at their plates. They knew they were in trouble. I took a slow, measured breath. “Quinn.”

“Sorry, Nina. I was outta line.”

“Yes, you were,” she retorted haughtily.

Christ. “Nina.”

“I’m sorry, too,” she said, chastised. She sounded like she mostly meant it, so I figured apologies were done.

“Thank you. Now put your plates in the dishwasher and head up to your rooms. I don’t care if you read, or watch TV, or stare at the walls. Just do it separately and quietly.”

“But Da-ad!” both children whined in unison.

Nina added, “We’re going to do the tree tonight.”

“You promised!” Quinn accused.

“That was before you both decided picking on each other was the way to spend dinner. Go on, both of you. If you can keep a civil tongue in your heads, we’ll do it tomorrow.”