“Get out, Mom,” Ethan said, his words dropping like iron weights into the space between them.

Sylvia stood frozen near the threshold for five long seconds, her jaw trembling slightly as she looked from Ethan to me and back again.

She reached out and adjusted the lapel of her velvet coat, smoothing the heavy black fabric with two quick, jerky motions.

She looked past Ethan’s shoulder and locked eyes with me one last time, her expression dark with anger and defeat.

“I am sorry you had to find out this way, Rachel,” Sylvia said in a quiet, bitter voice that barely reached across the small room.