271990Benjamin was in his room, polishing off the last of an apple tart and pretending to do his homework.
He heard his mother scream, and it sounded to him not like her usual screaming about his eating habits or ants in the kitchen, but this time as though something was seriously wrong. He ran downstairs to help.
In the living room, his mother was lying on the sofa with an arm over her eyes, and his father knelt beside her, his hand on her shoulder. “It’s all right, isn’t it, Marine? It’s going to be all right.”
Ben stopped short, feeling as though he was intruding on something private. He saw his mother take her arm away from her face, saw the gratified look she gave his father—and with a flash of understanding he realized that his mother had fabricated the upset in order to get his f
