Our Roof
I lifted Sabina higher against my shoulder and smiled. Thatcher noticed; his expression shifted before he could hide it.
“Our roof?” I asked quietly. “Is that what you think this is?”
He blinked.
Beatrix pressed her lips together. “Vivian, this is not the time for whatever point you imagine you’re making.”
“No,” I said. “This is exactly the time.”
Chapter 3 — Before the Ashfords
To understand why those words changed the air in that hallway, you’d have to know who I was before Thatcher’s family began seeing me only as Thatcher Ashford’s wife.