to spook her. My mind was a storm of emo

I said softly. "I wa

n was cold, even in the mild afternoon air. I saw her hands up close now, the kn

, Mom?" I asked

confusion was palpable. She knew something was wrong, knew her situation was

house. "Let's go inside.

wers, no stacks of art books on the coffee table. I led her to the living room sofa and had her si

f you," I said, draping i

ning to her eyes. "It's beautiful, Chloe," she whispered. It

s and a tight-fitting top, her hair pulled back in a sleek ponytail. She looked mor

't say you were coming." Her smile

ped over my mother's shoulders. Her eye

nor, dear, you're always so warm. You won't need

ake the shawl off my

pped between them, blocking Brenda's path.

said, my voice quie

ock. She tried to pull her

er," I said, enunciating

face, replaced by a sneer. "Well, p

need yo

, a phony smile plastered on his face. "What's all the

her looking frightened on the sofa, the tension th

e shifting to one of paternalistic disapprova

ective arm around her shoulder. It was a gestur

other's gift," I said, final

She helps your mother with everything. You should be grateful. You

the ungrateful daughter disrupting their p