Her expression shifted from anger to panic.
“Grandma, the family photographs are in twenty minutes!”
Grandma stopped.
“What family photographs?”
“The formal portraits. With Adrian and his parents. I told the photographer we were doing one with Dad’s side of the family.”
I looked at Vanessa.
“So you want me in the photograph?”
“Obviously.”
“But not at the table.”
She rubbed her forehead.
“Clara, I don’t have time to explain every decision to you.”
“You had time this morning.”
That made her pause.
At ten forty-five, while she was getting her makeup done, Vanessa had sent me a message confirming my place beside Grandma.
Table Seven, next to Margaret. Don’t be late.
I still had it on my phone.
Aunt Patricia noticed my expression.
“What did she tell you this morning?”
I showed her the message.
Patricia read it, then looked at Vanessa.
“You told Clara exactly where to sit.”
Vanessa glanced toward Adrian.
“Plans change.”
He frowned.
“Did you change the seating after we approved it?”
“Adrian, please.”
“I’m asking.”
Vanessa’s eyes flashed.
“Yes. I changed one seat. Can we stop acting as though I’ve committed a crime?”
I looked at the little table beside the kitchen doors.
