“Did you just call Joanie?” he asked in a low, beaten mumble.

“Yes, I did, and she told me everything you lied about,” I said, walking right past him toward the stairs.

“Claire, please, just let me explain why I thought it was the best way forward,” he begged, following close behind me down the wooden stairs.

“You planned to leave our son three counties away for a whole school year, Peter, so don’t stand there and tell me you were looking out for what’s best for him,” I said, turning on the landing to face him.

“We hadn’t signed the final school paperwork yet, Claire, it was only a backup plan in case we couldn’t make the mortgage,” he stammered, his eyes sliding away.