Jake’s voice hit my ear so hard that I pulled the phone away.
I stood beside our brand-new crossover, staring through the open rear door at the stained seat, muddy mats, crushed chips, and sticky cup beneath the passenger seat.
Behind me, my husband, Timothy, stepped onto the porch holding his phone. His face told me Jake wasn’t the only angry one.
« HOW DARE YOU? »
« You knew Mom and Dad were here! » Jake shouted.
« Yes. »
« You wanted to humiliate me, Elle! »
I pressed one finger against the damp seat.
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