“I am sorry.”
Margaret looked at her.
“For which part?”
Edith swallowed.
“For deciding I knew what was best because I had the authority to decide.”
Margaret held her gaze.
That answer, at least, was honest.
She nodded once.
Then she left.
The drive home was quiet for nearly an hour.
Finally Claire said, “I hated you.”
Margaret looked at her.
“Before today?”
“Before I knew.”
Margaret waited.
Claire kept her eyes on the road.
“Not all the time.”
“I assumed.”
“I hated how you corrected everything.”
“That is reasonable.”
Claire glanced at her.
Margaret almost smiled.
Claire continued.
“I hated how Daniel listened to you.”
“Sometimes.”
“Too much.”
“Not Christmas morning.”
Claire flinched.
“I know.”
Margaret looked out the window.
Claire’s voice softened.
“I think part of me hated you before I knew why.”
Margaret turned.
“What do you mean?”
“I always felt uncomfortable in the house.”
“The house?”
“Yes.”
“I thought it was because you made me feel like a guest.”
Margaret frowned.
“Did I?”
