“Frank,” Caroline called as I walked past his chair.

“Tell my sister how ridiculous she’s being.”

Frank cleared his throat twice, his face reddening above his collar, but he kept his eyes locked on his plate and said nothing at all.

“Look at him,” Caroline said with a harsh laugh.

“Even Frank knows you’re throwing a ridiculous tantrum.”

My mother followed us into the front foyer, her soft leather slippers making no sound on the parquet floor.

“If you walk out that front door right now, Clara, you’ll prove every suspicion I’ve ever had,” my mother said, standing next to the hall tree where our winter coats hung.