Only once.
But I saw it.
The first crack.
“The one prescribed after the birth,” she said smoothly. “You know how emotional she’s been.”
“No,” Sophie whispered. “Nick, I didn’t—”
“Hush,” Penelope snapped automatically.
Then she caught herself.
Too late.
I stepped into the room.
My mother lifted a trembling hand to her chest. “Darling, don’t look at me like that. I was trying to help.”
“Put the pills down.”
“Nicholas—”
“Now.”
My voice did not rise.
That made it worse.
Penelope’s eyes flickered toward the wooden owl on the shelf.
