Alexa

We were now assembled downstairs at the sound of the bell, each holding her breath for what might come next.

But one thing was certain—I was the reason we were down here.

She marched over, coming from the kitchen, stopping at my side. My breath had never been this skunked in.

"Who drank the pineapple in the kitchen?" she asked, her voice void of any emotions.

Trisha looked over, Diana did the same, and I guess they also knew it was me.

"I did," I let my words slide out, but not as one ...