“Mira,” her mother fastened her gaze on the table cloth, still pristine and white, “I’m going to tell you a story. I need you not to interrupt me until I’m finished. All right?”
Not liking the sound of that, Mira nodded. How was she supposed to figure things out if she couldn’t ask questions?
“Once upon a time—”
“I thought you said this was a real story.” Mira folded her arms and raised a brow.
“Then why did you—”
“All the very best stories start with ‘Once upon a time,’” her mother said in her usual no-nonsense voice. “This one is no exception. May I continue?”