"You'll tell Dad he never lifts a finger to help next," I say.
"We will not allow you to meet with boys, will we, Tom?"
"You're still a child, Katie," says Dad.
I count the worry lines on his forehead, one, two, and three, and so I lie. "I don't meet with boys," I say, then I ask if I can please have another fruit scone.
Reprinted from Cover the Butter by Carrie Kabak, pages 1-13, with permission from Dutton, a member of Penguin Group (USA) Inc. Copyright © 20054 by Carrie Kabak. All rights reserved. This excerpt, or any parts thereof, may not be reproduced without permission.
Blood at the Root
"A gripping, timely, and important examination of American racism."
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