“Your sister has an awful temper, Rachel, and I’m not going to defend what she did,” my mother said, brushing a quick tear off her cheek with the back of her wrist.

“She knows she lost control.”

“Emma’s still bruised, Mom,” I said.

“I know, and it breaks my heart,” she said.

“We need family counseling, all three of us, with a licensed pastor or a therapist here in town who understands our history.”

“Vanessa threw an iron skillet at a four-year-old,” I said.

“She was under terrible pressure with the photo shoot and the morning schedule,” my mother said, moving closer and reaching for my arm.

“We only want to put this sad misunderstanding behind us and be a real family again.”