She took his hand and shook it firmly; briskly. "Oh, she's off somewhere, talking to one of her friends from her book club or her tea-tasting group or whatever. She loves this kind of thing. But usually..." usually Dad stays at home with us, because he hates parties like this, "Usually we don't have to come with her." Impatiently, she tucked a strand of brown hair behind her ear. All of her movements were brisk and decisive.
"Usually our dad looks after us," Ira offered, stepping forward furtively to join the conversation and trying to ignore the glare Auden shot at him when he spoke. "But he's not around, now."
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SOPHIE: BtN's resident whimsical insomniac fairytale-junkie!
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“Hope is the thing with feathers"
-----Emily Dickinson
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