My hands paused in her suitcase.
“That depends on what you mean.”
She turned a shell over in her palm.
“He said he was. Before.”
I sat beside her on the carpet.
“Someone can love you and still hurt you by being weak,” I said carefully. “That doesn’t make the hurt okay. And it doesn’t mean you have to pretend.”
“Do I have to see Grandma?”
“No.”
Her shoulders dropped with relief so visible it made me furious all over again.
“Good,” she whispered.
I tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
“You never have to go where people make you feel small.”
Piper leaned against me.
From the kitchen, I heard Callan opening cabinets, probably pretending to look for something so he wouldn’t have to sit alone with himself.
Then the doorbell rang.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Hard.
Piper stiffened.
I stood and walked toward the front of the house already knowing, before I saw through the frosted glass, who was waiting on my porch.
Verity had come dressed in pearls.
And she was holding Piper’s wedding card in her hand.
### Part 6
Verity stood on my porch like a woman arriving for a board meeting she expected to win.
Her silver hair was swept into a smooth twist. Her pearl earrings matched the necklace at her throat. She wore a cream blazer despite the heat, and her lipstick was the exact shade of red people choose when they want their anger to look expensive.
In her right hand, she held Piper’s folded wedding card.
The one with the cake and the dog in a bow tie.
I opened the door only halfway.
“Verity.”
She looked past me into the house.
“Where is my son?”
“Unavailable.”
Her nostrils flared.
“I am not here to play games, Maren.”
“Good. I’m tired.”
She lifted the card.
“Elowen found this in Callan’s things. Apparently Piper made it.”
The way she said Piper’s name was almost correct. Almost.
“She did.”
Verity’s eyes narrowed.
“And you let that child think she was attending?”
Something inside me went very still.
“That child has a name.”
“Oh, don’t start.”
“No,” I said. “I think I will.”
Behind me, floorboards creaked. Callan had come from the kitchen. I could feel him standing there, but I did not turn.
Verity saw him and instantly changed her face.
It was remarkable, really. The anger softened. The mouth trembled slightly. The eyes widened into wounded motherhood.
“Callan,” she said. “Tell your wife to stop this.”
I almost laughed.
Tell your wife.
Not talk to her. Not listen to her. Tell her.
Callan came to stand beside me.
“Mom, you need to leave.”
Verity blinked.
“What?”
“You can’t show up here.”
“This is my family.”
“No,” I said. “This is my home.”
Her gaze snapped to me.
“You have no idea what family means.”
I tilted my head.
“I know it doesn’t mean banning a child from a wedding while using her mother’s account to pay for dinner.”
Color rose in Verity’s cheeks.
“That payment arrangement was convenient.”
“For you.”
“For everyone.”
“Piper wasn’t everyone.”
Her mouth tightened.
“Elowen deserved one day without complications.”
Callan spoke then, quietly.
“Piper is not a complication.”
Verity looked at him like he had slapped her.
The air changed.
For years, Callan had disagreed with his mother only in private, and even then softly, apologetically, like he was touching a bruise. Seeing him correct her in daylight, where other people could hear, felt strange. Too late, but strange.
Verity recovered fast.
“Of course she isn’t,” she said. “You’re twisting my words.”
“I have the video,” I said.
She froze.
Callan turned his head slightly toward me. I had not told him I saved it.
Verity’s fingers tightened around Piper’s card.
“What video?”
“The rehearsal dinner. The one where you said, ‘Her kid doesn’t belong with us.’ The one where you told people Callan knew better than to let us show up.”
Her face went from red to pale.
“That was private.”
“No,” I said. “That was public. You just didn’t think it would reach me.”
Callan’s voice was low.
“You said that in front of people?”
Verity shot him a furious look.
“Don’t you dare act shocked. You knew how I felt.”
There it was.
The truth, finally out in the open, ugly and breathing.
Callan stepped back as if the words had physically touched him.
“I knew you were difficult,” he said. “I didn’t know you were cruel.”
Verity’s face hardened.
“You ungrateful boy.”
I felt Piper behind me before I saw her.
She had crept into the hallway, small and barefoot, the stuffed turtle tucked under one arm. Her eyes were wide, fixed on the card in Verity’s hand.
I shifted, blocking more of the doorway.
Verity saw her anyway.