Once again, Amy had whipped up the perfect blog post: spotless home; delectable spread; handsome husband manning the grill. And their twelve-year-old daughter, Emma, in a sundress and kitten heels—radiant. (A thousand likes and counting.)
Outside Emma’s bedroom, their earlier argument ate at her. Had she pushed too hard? She’d had to buy her daughter’s cooperation—twenty dollars to smile and look pretty (probably a mistake).
Inside, she apologized. “Moving forward, less social media, more mother-daughter time. Promise.”
Emma stared at her phone.
Amy fidgeted. “Can I have a hug?”
She exhaled with relief.
“It’ll cost you, though.”