Families protected children at dinner tables.
Families did not make little girls go silent before the salad was served.
But Sarah had looked exhausted in the passenger seat, and Lily had been in the back with a ribbon in her hair, asking if Grandma Claudia would like the picture she had drawn.
So Ryan had swallowed his doubt and driven to Oak Haven Lane.
Claudia’s house was exactly the kind of place that announced judgment before anyone opened the door.
White columns.
Trimmed hedges.
A brass knocker polished bright enough to reflect nervous faces.
Inside, everything smelled like lemon oil, roasted turkey, and old money trying to prove it was still powerful.
Claudia greeted Lily with a kiss near, not on, her cheek.
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