I watched it land behind their eyes, one after another: this wasn’t a grandmotherly lesson. This was calculated.

Patricia straightened her spine and reached for her authority. “Oh, for heaven’s sake, Emma, enough theatrics. She was right outside the entrance.”

“Right outside?” I repeated, the phone catching every word.

“Yes, precisely.” Her voice tightened. “She was being difficult. Whining. I told her to wait while we finished our errands. Children need to learn obedience.”

Daniel came forward, hands gripping the back of my chair. “Mom.”

It wasn’t a plea. It was a warning, in an octave I hadn’t heard out of my husband in ten years of marriage.