“Sir,” Ms. Patel said coolly, “if you interfere with my client taking her minor child and leaving, the next voice you hear will be law enforcement. I suggest you step away.”
My father froze.
For the first time in my life, he looked unsure of himself.
My mother set her glass down too carefully. “Elena,” she said in that syrupy tone she used when she wanted to sound reasonable, “you are making this uglier than it needs to be.”
I walked past her like she was a stranger.
Noah was in the living room on the rug with his toy dinosaurs. He looked up when I came in, his little face lighting up.
“Mommy!”
I dropped to my knees and hugged him so tightly he squeaked.
“Hey, baby.”
“Grandma said Aunt Chloe got a race car.”
I swallowed. “Did she?”
“Can we get pizza?”
My eyes burned, but the tears didn’t come back.
