The edges of her smile started to vibrate.

“Daniel,” she said, sweetening. “You’re my flesh and blood. You’re my son.”

He nodded once. “And Mia is my daughter. My priority.”

For a fraction of a second, real panic crossed her face, and I understood what she’d been counting on. She’d expected a screaming match. She was good at those — she could turn an outburst into disrespect, disrespect into her own victimhood, victimhood into control.

Daniel gave her nothing to hold. The anger had burned out and left a wall.

She pressed her palms flat against the glass. “You will regret cutting me out for the rest of your life.”