To someone saying my name like it meant something.
Violet noticed.
“Grandpa likes you,” she said once.
“He tolerates me.”
“No,” she smiled. “He respects you. That’s different.”
Then one evening, everything changed.
Violet had gone upstairs, and it was just the two of us.
Rick set his glass down and looked at me—really looked at me.
“Have you ever thought about making a practical decision instead of an emotional one?” he asked.
I frowned. “That sounds like advice I’m not going to like.”
“I’m asking something serious.”
Something in his tone made my stomach tighten.
“Okay…”
