"What did I do?" protested Faye.
"It's nothing like that."
Faye squinted up at her mother, shielding her eyes from the bedroom light with her hand. "What do you want then?"
Her mother sighed in frustration. "Please, just come down."
By the time Faye walked into the lounge, the television was off. Her parents were sitting in silence, staring at the fireplace. It was still covered in cards wishing Faye a happy birthday.
"Please, sit down, dear," suggested her mother.
Faye sat down on the couch, facing both her parents. They looked solemn, like the time her uncle had died.
Her mother cleared her throat. "You know how you're... different from the other girls?"
"I don't like Helen Fryer as much," suggested Faye.
"Not that." Her mother sounded frustrated again now.