I smiled when my son told me I wasn’t welcome at Christmas, got in the car, and drove home. Two days later, my phone showed eighteen missed calls. That’s when I knew something had gone terribly wrong.
As the new year dawned, they no longer had to make any mortgage payments.
And that was just the first step.
Some injustices require redress.
Some arrogance needs correcting.
And what I did next… no one saw that coming.
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“I could cook this year,” I said casually, sinking back into Michael’s leather sofa.
“My turkey. The one with the sage stuffing, the one your mother loved so much. Remember how she always said it was better than her grandmother’s?”
The words echoed in the cozy air, mingling with the sweet vanilla scent of Isabella’s designer candles.
Michael moved closer beside me. The light from her enormous Christmas tree glinted off his wedding ring.
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