Caroline’s plate was still full. Emma, driven by innocent curiosity, reached out her hand and grabbed a roasted carrot. Just one. A tiny one.
“What are you doing?!” Caroline suddenly roared.
The whole table froze. The carrot fell from Emma’s trembling fingers. I took a breath.
“She’s just a baby, Caroline. She didn’t mean any harm.”
But my sister, already furious, ignored my words. She stood up so abruptly that her chair nearly fell over, grabbed her plate, and smashed it against the edge of the table. Pieces flew, the vegetables rolled onto the floor.
“There! Eat on the floor if you want to touch MY food!”
