"That smells good, Ebony. I will be in there in to help you in a minute." Mother says while she is working on papers and the adult room, she has some grief in her voice when she talks to me.
"Okay," even though I'm nearly done cooking, "what are you working on?"
"Um, some files for your father."
Wow, she really cannot come up with a believable story. She never does papers for him, she only does them when it is necessary.
Now I am suspicious.
