"How did you get so good?"
"Will you teach me?"
"Are you a professional?"
"Has Sam ever beat you?"

The questions kept flying at Maggie. She answered every one, demonstrating when it was necessary and sometimes when it wasn't. The cousins hung on to every word like it was the veritable lifeline of coolness.

"Where did you learn to play like that?"

"My father taught me." Sam's ears noticeably perked with interest. She rarely even mentioned her father, only when it was unavoidable in certain social situations.

"Was he good?" a small voice from the other side of the table squeaked.

"What?" Maggie asked, confused.

"Your dad. Was he good?"

She paused. "Yeah, he was," she admitted. "But I'm better."