When my gaze flickers to Liam, he gives me a grateful smile before tilting his head toward his father who has reclaimed his spot on the recliner.
"I need to talk with Dad for a bit."
She nods before leading the way. Actually, it's a relief to escape from the living room and the oppressive energy.
Even though it's a Friday night, the small kitchen table is littered with schoolbooks. My gaze roams over the mess before bouncing to her. Most girls Claire's age would already be out the door with her friends.
"Wow," I say. "You must be really dedicated to stay in on a Friday night and work on homework."
The light shining in her eyes dims as she drops onto a chair, and I settle next to her. I don't remember if Liam told me what grade his sister is in. If I had to guess by the textbooks scattered across the table, I'd say middle school. One of the books splayed open is pre-algebra and most students take that course in eighth grade.