our bedroom. Behind him stood his mother, Lorraine, wrapped in my robe as if she owned the place.
“She’ll be staying with us,” Daniel said. “Probably a few months.”
“You brought her here without asking me?”
Lorraine smiled. “Family shouldn’t need invitations.”
I had spent six years swallowing words to keep the peace. I cooked, cleaned, handled the bills, remembered Daniel’s meetings, and drove Lorraine to appointments whenever he was “too busy.” I had even postponed a promotion once because Daniel said our home needed me more. Daniel called it
