My aunt looked at me with disapproval as she asked, "Sylvia, no offense, but why are you counting your croissants? Your mother hasn't slept well for days because of you."
"Apologize to your mother. There's no such thing as holding a grudge overnight between mother and daughter."
I said nothing and didn't move.
The air seemed to freeze as my father opened his mouth, "You're in the wrong here. Your mother's been working so hard to take care of you. You can't just dismiss all her efforts over something this trivial, can you?"
"You can't go through life without a conscience."
He was usually a man of few words, but speaking so much this time showed he was truly upset with me.
My mother wept even harder.
Suddenly, my sister stepped in front of me and whispered softly to my mother, "Mom, it's my fault she's like this. If only I'd remembered to share the croissants from the plate, you two wouldn't have argued."
"It's all my fault, every single bit of it. Please don't be angry with her."
My mother's face softened with tenderness as she said, "Look! How could anyone not love such a sensible child? It's only right that I care for her a little more."