“So, Tommy,” she purred, dripping venomous pride. “Did you put her in her proper place?”

Tom swallowed an invisible stone, eyes darting to me in terror. I played my part — flinching visibly, gripping the towel until my knuckles blanched. Her smile widened into a predatory grin.

She tossed her coat over the armchair and took the sofa like a conquering monarch.

“Water.” She snapped her fingers.

I scurried to the kitchen and brought her a glass with both hands, eyes on the floorboards. “Here, Mom.”

She didn’t drink it. She slammed it onto the table.