The visitation was almost over when Fiona arrived.
The moment she walked in and saw the child in my arms, her face darkened.
"Time's almost up. Give me the child," she said, reaching out as entitled as ever.
But this time, I didn't let go.
I held the child, my voice steady. "Today isn't over yet," I said.
She froze for a moment, then raised her voice. "I've been the one looking after her. Your body hasn't even recovered. What are you trying to prove?" she demanded.
Aaron entered behind her. He looked at me, as if still trying to keep up appearances. "Amara, we can talk about this calmly. Don't make a scene in front of outsiders," he said.
I looked at him and found it ridiculous. That same line again. Ugly. Outsiders. Decency. As if all grievances were meant to rot behind closed door
