“Mommy, I’m thirsty — can I have a sip of your tea?” She reached her small hands for the cup.
Mireille went white in an instant and shrieked, loud enough to rattle the room: “Do not drink from that cup, child!”
Lucien lowered his newspaper slowly and looked at his mother with plain confusion.
“Mom.
What’s in Ondine’s tea that makes it dangerous for our daughter to drink?”
Mireille stared at the mug.