Chapter 57 Naughty

Aimee was fragile in the morning. She was waspier than usual, scowling at me as I fried up egg and bacon. My optimism was shelved in seconds. I’d been a fool to think anything about our seemingly heartfelt chat would last through the night. She was back to her usual bratty self, loud and clear. “Do you have to cook right now?” she snapped. “I think I’m gonna barf.”