The doorbell rang just as Amelia was coaxing Oliver into his socks, her fingers working with gentle precision as he giggled and kicked like it was a game. The sound startled them both—it was almost 7 p.m., and she wasn’t expecting anyone.
Brad was still radio silent after storming out the previous night. Claire’s words still echoed in her head like church bells—soft but impossible to ignore. Amelia wasn’t sure she was ready to deal with another twist in the day, but when she peeked through the peephole, her heart dropped like a stone.
Lilian Best.
What was she doing here?
The matriarch stood tall and sharp in a gray wool coat that looked more expensive than Amelia’s monthly rent. Her hair was pulled into a tight bun, her lips painted in that signature crimson shade that made her look b
