The moment they stepped into the house, the air tightened—thick, electric, ready to shatter. Julia barely set her coat down before her mother’s voice cut through the silence like a knife.
“You embarrassed me at the cemetery.”
Julia spun, eyes blazing. “Embarrassed you? For defending someone who’s been nothing but good to me?”
Mrs. Bailey’s lips curled, cold and sharp. “Good? He’s a Hughes. That is all he’ll ever be.”
The words hit Julia like a slap. “You don’t know him,” she said, her voice trembling. “You don’t see how hard he’s trying.”
“I see perfectly,” her mother shot back. “You think you’ve changed him? Men like that don’t change—they just drag you down with them.”
Julia’s breath caught, fury and hurt twisting inside her chest. “That’s not fair.”
Fairness was a luxury neither
