Daniel turned around from the grill.

He didn’t tell Ava to lower her voice.

He rubbed his left eyebrow with two fingers and gave me a heavy, disappointed look.

“Claire, just let her eat what she wants,” Daniel said.

“We don’t need to turn lunch into a battleground.”

I touched my thin silver bracelet.

I turned away from the stairs and carried an empty plastic tray into the kitchen.

The afternoon dragged on.