His face changed.
“No, Mom. You kept digging the grave because it was easier than asking why she left.”
He arrived just after dark.
“I am your mother.”
“And she’s my twin.”
“You hid my grandchild from me.”
“Rose isn’t a prize you lost,” Liam said. “She’s a baby Livia was scared to bring near you.”
The room tilted.
“I loved her. I gave her everything.”
“Everything except room to disappoint you.”
“You hid my grandchild from me.”
John stood in the doorway.
I turned to him. “Tell him I only wanted to protect her.”
John looked at the letters on the floor.
“Camila,” he said quietly, “sometimes you don’t give people room to be themselves.”
“Don’t.”
“I kept quiet because it was easier than standing between you and the children.”
Liam wiped his face with his sleeve.
“Tell him I only wanted to protect her.”
“You both made the house feel like a courtroom,” he said. “Mom judged, Dad settled, and Livia and I waited for the sentence.”
