“You had no right.”
A curtain shifted in the house next door.
Natalie stayed in the doorway. “Your daughter was 18, pregnant, and crying on my porch. I had every reason to close the door because of you. But she isn’t you, so I opened it.”
“You should’ve called me.”
“She begged me not to.”
“And you listened?”
“Yes,” Natalie said. “Because someone needed to.”
Mitchell appeared behind her with a baby bottle in his hand. For 11 months, I’d made him a villain.
“She begged me not to.”
He only looked tired.
“I asked her to call you,” he said.
“Then why didn’t you?”
“Because I married Livia. I don’t make choices for her.”
A baby cried inside the house.
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