Ethan did not answer her.

He moved another inch closer to my side, his left arm pressing against mine, though I could feel his forearm shaking through his woolen sweater.

“He did not do those chores, Rachel,” Sylvia said, turning her dark eyes straight to me.

“I paid four hundred dollars a month so he would not have to.”

June gave a weak, breathless whimpering sigh against my collarbone, her small face warm against the fabric of my navy scrub top.

I rested my left hand over June’s back, my thumb finding the cold silver band of my wedding ring and pressing hard against the metal edge.