et lane of a high-end steakhouse in downtown Chicago. The kind of place we used

I asked, my st

the mirror. His expression was hard. "A welcome home

his voice dropping to

ght to Gabby, and you are going to apologize. Publicly. You will th

I said, my voice barely a wh

ous, you got violent, and you paid the price. Gabby was the victim.

nodded in agreement. "Aunt Gabb

air leave my lungs. My son. My own son believed I

e car, Jocelyn

aurant. He led us toward a private room in the back. Laught

n my chest. I felt

," I mumbled, pulling away

but nodded toward a hallway.

t of the private room's entrance, hidden by a large decorative plant. I ne

hed over me. Voices of our college friends, our f

t?" one of them laughed. It w

another voice, Sarah's, chimed in. "Gabby is a literal

ice. Sweet, melodic, and

had a hard time. We just need to he

hattered the last piec

e clear and loud. "I'm embarrassed she's m

sounds of sympathy a

g me up. It was worse than I imagined. They had all turned on me.

at hallway. A cold, hard resol