As she moved upstairs, the preteen had a million thoughts running through her head and not a one of them was positive. Once she entered into her bedroom, Karen made a point of slamming the door behind her.
She was mad enough she didn’t bother to lock it as she always did. Instead, she merely went over to the bed, plopped down onto it angrily, and mumbled, “God, that brat couldn’t get older quick enough.”
Grumbling out some further, bitter complaints about Dillion, Karen rolled onto her side and pulled her blanket sideways over her head. She curled up, feeling put-down and ignored, certain now that the discussion downstairs had turned to how ungrateful and selfish she was while they clumsily shoveled food into Dillion’s mouth.