Judith lifted her teacup again, her manicured nails silent against the handle.

“Mara,” Cole said, turning slowly toward me.

“You’re acting completely outside your boundaries.”

“I’m protecting my daughter,” I said.

“You’re building a record of your own instability,” Cole said.

He picked up his briefcase, walked past me without meeting my eyes and left the dining room.

Brooke followed him into the front hall, the soft swish of her silk skirt fading down the corridor.

Judith stayed seated at the mahogany table, gazing through the dark glass of the garden doors at the black trees beyond.