a moment, they stood there angrily.
Then my sister muttered about legal action and stormed outside.
My parents followed.
The door slammed.
Silence returned.
Ava stood behind me, rigid and quiet.
I moved to hug her.
Instead, she turned toward the living room window.
Outside, three phones were pointed toward our house.
I looked closer.
Jeff, our neighbor across the street, stood on his lawn looking stunned.
The same Jeff who managed the local Facebook group and had livestreamed our previous neighborhood barbecue.
I waved, silently warning him not to
