“How incredibly embarrassing,” she hissed, “for you to bring up money, today of all days.

If you needed help, you could have just told me.”

I looked at her without flinching.

“Last Christmas, Heather, you arrived with a cheap box of chocolates.

You ate a full meal.

You drank the expensive wine.

You left without clearing your plate, and you never once asked who was paying for any of it.”

Heather opened her mouth, and then, under the weight of the family’s turning gazes, closed it again.