“There isn’t room for her at the reunion,” she said.
For a second, I thought I had misunderstood.
“For who?”
“Sophie.”
She said it as if she were discussing an extra suitcase.
“The numbers have already been finalized.”
I stared at her.
There were folding chairs stacked in their garage.
There were empty seats at the table right beside us.
My brain kept trying to solve the situation like it was simply a logistical problem.
“Then add one more person,” I said. “Call them.”
Mom’s expression tightened.
And that was when I understood.
This had nothing to do with numbers.
Lauren put down her glass.
“Hannah, she isn’t really family.”
Sophie was only a few feet away.
Her little hands stopped above the cracker tower.
Lauren kept talking in the same calm tone someone might use while explaining a hotel reservation.
“The cabins are already booked. We submitted the activity numbers. We planned everything for the family kids. We assumed Michael would arrange something with his side for Sophie.”
Dad stared at his plate.
Kevin rubbed the back of his neck.
Neither said a word.
Mom nodded as though Lauren had just explained something completely reasonable.
Sophie didn’t move.
She didn’t look up.
Children have a particular way of going still when adults are saying something they were never supposed to hear.
I could feel heat rising into my face.
“She is family,” I said.
Mom sighed.
“Sophie is my stepdaughter. She lives in my house. I help raise her. She is eight years old, and she is standing right there while you talk about her like she’s some extra guest nobody remembered to include.”
“Don’t turn this into a dramatic situation,” Mom replied. “It’s simply too late.”
Lauren crossed her arms.
“You’re taking this personally. She’s Michael’s daughter. She isn’t actually one of the cousins.”
That was when Sophie finally looked up.
Not at them.
At me.
And something inside me became very clear.
She wasn’t waiting to find out whether my mother would change her mind.
She was waiting to see what I would do.
Michael turned away from the sink.
“Everything okay?”
Nobody answered.
Mom picked her legal pad back up as though the conversation was finished.
