Page 13 of Love so Hot

I approach cautiously. "Can I play too?"

Ethan, the oldest at thirteen, looks at me like I've suggested we all go get root canals for fun. "You probably don't want to play our game."

"Why not?" I ask, my voice small and uncertain. Please, please let me fit in for once.

Harrison, eleven and already a master of the condescending eye roll, sighs dramatically. "We're playing developer. You know, cutting down trees and stuff."

My stomach churns. Even in their games, they're destroying things. Don't they see how beautiful the trees are? How important?

I want to argue, to tell them trees are more than just obstacles to be chopped down. But the words get stuck in my throat, trapped behind being the weird, quiet cousin who cares too much about dumb stuff like plants and animals.

So I just stand there, water splashing at my feet, feeling as out of place as a sapling in a parking lot. Tears prick at my eyes as I turn and run back to my mother. The grass tickles my bare feet, each blade a tiny reminder of the nature I'm desperate to protect.

"Mom!" I cry out, my voice cracking. "Ethan and Harrison are saying they're going to cut down trees!"

My father's deep chuckle rumbles through the air. "Trees grow back, princess. No need to get all upset over it."

His dismissive tone makes me want to scream. How can he not understand? But I bite my lip, trying to hold back the flood of emotions threatening to spill over.

My mother, ever the peacemaker, reaches out to stroke my hair. Her touch is gentle, like a soft breeze through leaves. "It's okay, sweetie. They're just playing make-believe."

I look up at her, my vision blurry with unshed tears. "But Mom, that's what Dad and Uncle do for real, isn't it? They cut down trees and build things where the trees used to be."

The silence that follows is deafening. I can almost hear the gears turning in my father's head as he processes what I've said. His face darkens like storm clouds rolling in.

"Margaret," he says tersely, "take her inside."

My mother stands, her flowing skirt rustling like wind through tall grass. She takes my hand, her grip warm and comforting. "Come on, sweetheart. Let's go make a snack, shall we?"

We enter the kitchen, a sunny space that usually feels warm and inviting. Today, though, it feels too bright, too exposed. Mom grabs a cloth and gently dabs at my cheeks, wiping away the tears I didn't even realize had fallen.

"There now," she says softly. "How about something to eat? I could warm up some chicken soup."

I shake my head vigorously, my pigtails whipping back and forth. "No, Mom. Remember? I told you I don't want to eat that anymore. It's just... it's not right. Everyone's killing animals and I can't stand it."

Mom's eyes widen slightly, a mix of surprise and something else I can't quite place. Pride, maybe? She recovers quickly, though, and reaches for the snack cabinet.

"Of course, honey. How about some crackers and veggies instead?"

As she arranges a plate of carrot sticks and whole wheat crackers, I lean against the cool marble countertop, my mind racing. I can't shake the image of all those trees being cut down, of animals losing their homes. It's like a movie playing on repeat in my head, and not the fun kind with talking animals and happy endings.

"Mom," I start, my voice small but determined, "why can't we use our money to do some good? Instead of... you know, what Dad does."

She freezes for a moment, her back to me. When she turns, her face is a careful mask of calm. "Sweetie, it's not our place to comment on these things. The men in our family handle the business, and they provide very well for us."

I wrinkle my nose, not buying it. "But I'd be okay with having less if it meant we could do more for others. For the animals and the trees and stuff."

Mom's eyes soften.

"Oh, Willow," she sighs, pulling me into a hug that smells like lavender and home. "You've got such a big heart. Just like..."

Mom's eyes mist over as she hugs me tighter. "You're definitely my daughter," she says, her voice catching a little.

I pull back, curiosity piqued. "What do you mean?"

She takes a deep breath, like she's about to spill some big secret. "Well, when I met your father, I was working for a lobbyist group advocating for clean energy. That's actually how we met."

"A lobbyist group? What's that?"

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