“I’m managing just fine,” I said, in a short, precise sentence.

“Arthur and I were talking in the dining room while Julian was on his business call,” Martha said, her gentle eyes searching my face for any hint of an argument.

“Talking about what?” I asked.

“Julian needs to set up his client files in the master bedroom and the upstairs guest room before tomorrow evening,” Martha said gently.

“That master bedroom is mine, Mother,” I said calmly.

“We know how hard this change is for you,” Martha said, her thumb drawing small, soothing circles on the back of my hand.