I started the engine.
For the first ten minutes, neither of us spoke.
Rain swept across the windshield. The streetlights blurred into long yellow streaks.
Finally, Margaret reached across the console and took my hand.
“I should have said something sooner.”
I kept my eyes on the road.
“You did say something.”
“Tonight, yes. But I’ve watched David speak to you that way for months. I’ve seen Brooke interrupt you and correct you in your own home. I kept telling myself it wasn’t my business.”
My throat tightened.
“I told myself the same thing.”
Margaret shook her head.
“No. You were trying to keep your family. I was trying to avoid an uncomfortable conversation. Those are not the same.”
I glanced at her.
It was the first apology anyone had offered me that evening.
And it mattered.
When we reached Caroline’s house, Emily was waiting on the front steps.
She wore gray sweatpants and an oversized sweatshirt, her long brown hair tied in a crooked ponytail.
The moment she saw my car, she ran.
I barely had time to open the door before she threw herself into my arms.
“Grandma!”
I held her so tightly that she laughed through her tears.
“Careful,” she whispered. “You’re squashing me.”
I loosened my arms.
Then I kissed her forehead.
“I’m not letting anyone frighten you like that again.”
She looked at the metal bowl in my hand.
Her expression changed.
“Why do you have Rusty’s bowl?”
I hesitated.
Margaret stepped closer.
