I was scrubbing the kitchen floor

Only five minutes earlier, I had been kneeling on the kitchen floor, scrubbing dried gravy from the tiles while Caleb and his wife, Marissa, watched me as though I were a mess they hadn’t yet decided how to dispose of.

“You missed a spot, Mother,” Caleb said.

He was forty-two, broad-shouldered, an expensive watch glinting beneath the kitchen light. My …

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