I looked at her.
“That’s the problem.”
“What?”
“You’re still trying to stop the sale.”
“Of course I am.”
“You’re not here because of Clare.”
Her eyes flickered.
“I care about Clare.”
“Did you call her?”
Mom looked down.
“When?”
“Any time in the last five days.”
“No.”
“Did you text her?”
“No.”
“Did Dad?”
“I don’t know.”
“He didn’t.”
Mom folded her hands.
“I assumed she needed space.”
“You told a pregnant woman to sit on the floor because your adult daughter wanted a chair.”
“I was trying to defuse the situation.”
“You defused it by humiliating Clare.”
“That wasn’t my intention.”
“I know.”
She looked up.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean I finally understand that intention is the thing this family hides behind every time impact becomes inconvenient.”
Mom frowned.
“I don’t understand.”
“Yes, you do.”
“No, Ian—”
“Tessa didn’t intend to hurt Clare.”
