I pressed my fingers against the warm side of the paper cup.

I wasn’t going to argue about how I raise my child.

“I need to know exactly what happened once I went upstairs,” I said.

“Emma has a head injury.

I need the facts.”

“I was doing the dishes,” Vanessa said.

“It isn’t my fault Mom told you to leave the room.

Mom’s the one who planned out the whole morning.”