I did not cry.
Something in me had gone very cold and very clear, the way water goes still right before it turns to ice.
Rowena swept in from her country club, saw the scene, and put a hand to her chest — not for her injured granddaughter, but for her floor.
“How awful.
That child brings misfortune everywhere she goes.
Look at the state of this house.”
I laughed.
It came out short and cold and surprised even me.
Rowena raised her hand to slap the laugh off my face, and I caught her wrist in the air and held it there.
“Don’t ever try that again,” I said quietly.