A special cake. You’ll love it.”
The cake appeared about an hour later. Connie carried it in like it was a crown jewel—a glossy chocolate thing with piped rosettes and “Congrats Susan!” written across the top in loopy white script.
“Homemade?” Aunt Linda asked.
“Mostly,” Connie said, her eyes flicking briefly to Kevin and then to me. “We wanted something continue reading …
