Then Livia stepped into the hallway.
“I don’t make choices for her.”
Her hair was shorter, and her face was thinner. But it was her, holding a baby wrapped in yellow.
“Livia,” I whispered.
I stepped forward.
She stepped back.
“Please don’t yell,” she said.
Those three words did more damage than any accusation could have.
“How could you do this to me?” I started.
“Please don’t yell.”
Liam whispered, “Mom.”
Everyone in that room was waiting for me to become the woman they feared.
I took one step back.
“No,” I said. “That was the wrong question.”
Livia blinked.
“What did I do that made leaving feel safer than telling me the truth?”
Her mouth trembled.
“That was the wrong question.”
“You made everything a test,” she said. “My grades. My clothes. My friends. Mitchell. Even my tone.”
“I thought I was guiding you.”
“When I found out I was pregnant, I wanted you. But I could feel your disappointment instead.”
