Boiling water. That’s what she called it now. It was soup.
Years ago, Jamie had been carrying a pot to the table, and Claire stepped right into his path. They collided. The soup soaked her arm and her side.
She’d needed weeks of bandages. Jamie apologized every single day.
“You said it was an accident,” I said.
“You weren’t the one he poured boiling water on.”
“It was. He didn’t mean to burn me. That’s the point.” She crossed her arms. “What happens when he doesn’t mean to drop Sophie?”
“You used to tell him his jokes were bad. You used to treat him like a person.”
“That was before I had a baby. He’s unpredictable, okay? He’s not safe around her.”
“You’re judging him for one accident from years ago.”
“What happens when he doesn’t mean to drop Sophie?”
“You can pretend he’s capable of everything because he’s your brother. I have to be realistic. This time I’m not risking my own skin. I’m risking hers.”
