Keepsake
“That's all I ask. I know it's a huge, huge favor. I know I'm asking you to hand over a chunk of your lives to me. But ... one month. That's all. I've never asked either of you for a favor before," Corinne added in an earnest, heartrending voice.
It was late, two in the morning. Snack and Laura were drooping over the kitchen table: Snack, because he was in his cups; Laura, because she'd spent the previous night crossing the country by plane. Only Corinne, who should have been sleepiest, was ...still wide awake—feverishly so.
Laura yawned and leaned her head back, trying to rub the cotton out of her eyes. It hurt to open them, hurt to think, hurt to argue. She longed for bed, the same bed that she'd been so glad to abandon fifteen years earlier. If only Corinne would stop holding them hostage!
She gazed wearily at her younger sister. "Rinnie, why are you so adamant about this? The nursery hasn't made any money for years.MoreLess
It was late, two in the morning. Snack and Laura were drooping over the kitchen table: Snack, because he was in his cups; Laura, because she'd spent the previous night crossing the country by plane. Only Corinne, who should have been sleepiest, was ...still wide awake—feverishly so.
Laura yawned and leaned her head back, trying to rub the cotton out of her eyes. It hurt to open them, hurt to think, hurt to argue. She longed for bed, the same bed that she'd been so glad to abandon fifteen years earlier. If only Corinne would stop holding them hostage!
She gazed wearily at her younger sister. "Rinnie, why are you so adamant about this? The nursery hasn't made any money for years.MoreLess
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