“What are you doing?” I whispered.
Evan didn’t look ashamed. He looked irritated.
“My sister needs it more,” he muttered, lifting one of the side panels. “She’s having twins.”
I stared at him in disbelief. “That crib was built for our daughter.” Beds& Headboards
His mother, Patricia, stood in the doorway wearing her fur-lined coat, her lips twisted like she smelled decay.
“Your daughter won’t even remember it,” she snapped. “Stop acting dramatic.”
I moved in front of the crib pieces. My back ached, my stomach felt unbearably heavy, but something colder than fear settled inside me. “Put it back.” Beds& Headboards
Evan gave a short laugh. “Or what, Mia?”
There it was again. That tone.
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