She listened without interrupting.
When I finished, her face had changed.
“You’re not going back.”
“No.”
“I mean tonight.”
“I know.”
“Tomorrow either.”
“I know.”
She held my shoulders.
“Promise me.”
“I promise.”
My phone began ringing.
Daniel.
I ignored it.
Again.
Ignored.
Then messages arrived.
You embarrassed me in front of my mother.
You’re overreacting.
Nothing actually happened.
Bring Sophie home.
That last sentence frightened me.
Not “come home.”
Bring Sophie home.
I turned off my phone.
That night, Sophie slept beside me in Rachel’s guest room.
Around two in the morning, she woke suddenly.
“Mom?”
“I’m here.”
“Is Daddy mad?”
I swallowed.
“That isn’t something you need to worry about.”
“Because I broke the glass?”
“No.”
I turned on the bedside lamp.
“Sophie, look at me.”
She did.
“You did nothing wrong.”
“But I dropped it.”
“Accidents happen.”
“It was Grandma’s glass.”
