Connor’s POV
I sat at the long oak dining table in our house, the one Mom polished once a year for big family dinners, stabbing at the roast chicken on my plate with my fork while trying my hardest not to stare straight across at Mrs. Harper. ...
Connor’s POV
I sat at the long oak dining table in our house, the one Mom polished once a year for big family dinners, stabbing at the roast chicken on my plate with my fork while trying my hardest not to stare straight across at Mrs. Harper. ...