Cyril
The air in the foyer was stagnant, thick with the cloying, artificial scent of lilies that seemed to emanate from the woman standing before me.
I stood paralyzed, my gaze raking over her from the mess of her blonde hair down to the way her feet seemed to stain the Persian rug.
I waited. I waited for the punchline. I waited for Alan to burst into that rare, deep-chested roar of laughter, to tell me this was a grotesque prank designed to punish me for the office, for the way I had unmade him.
I waited for the world to stop spinning on this new, jagged axis.
The silence stretched, broken only by the hum of the refrigerator in the distant kitchen.
I took his hand, hoping to go aside and have a word, but he refused to move.
"Won't you at least say hello to your new mom?" Dad as
