Carolina jabbed a manicured finger toward the sleeping child. “The truth that you’re never here. That you forced me to handle everything alone. That you only show up once or twice a month to play the hero while I do the real work of parenting.”

“That doesn’t explain how she ended up with a massive bruise on her back,” Sawyer retorted.

Bonnie slammed her heel against the tile floor, drawing looks from the nearby nurses. “It was a simple accident, and things like that happen in every normal home,” she snapped.

“In my day, mothers knew how to properly discipline their children, and nobody ever made a public spectacle out of it.”

Sawyer stared at her with complete disgust. “Do you really consider shoving a seven-year-old into a closet to be proper discipline?”

Carolina bit her lip, her expression wavering for a fraction of a second. “I didn’t push her like that. She’s clearly exaggerating,” she insisted, her voice rising.