Six chairs sat around a table, just another mundane family dinner filled with the sound of clinking forks and arbitrary questions.
Nothing could have prepared them for the secret the youngest boy would spew out of his mouth. His little sister stares,mouth agape, for it wasn’t his secret to tell it was hers.
Forks hit ceramic plates, questions and phone calls ensue, “a seven year old doesn’t make this up” cries her mother.
The little girl in the sixth chair, sits with the world buzzing around her, somehow relieved and heavy at the same time.