“I assumed he would handle it.”
The contempt she packed into the pronoun struck me like a slap.
Noah heard it too.
“Reid did handle it.”
His voice shook.
“He slept in the hospital. He learned how to move me without hurting my hip. He told me who I was when I woke up. He brought me home when I didn’t know him.”
Diane looked away.
“He paid bills. Talked to doctors. Kept my job alive. Stayed when I couldn’t promise him anything.”
Noah’s hand moved until it found mine.
“You didn’t send a message.”
“I didn’t think you wanted one.”
“I wanted my mother.”
The words silenced the room.
Diane’s mouth moved, but no answer came.
Noah looked down at our joined hands.
“I don’t now.”
Something changed in her face.
Her performance of concern finally cracked.
“You have no idea what I sacrificed for you.”
I felt Noah’s pulse jump against my fingers.
Diane leaned forward.
“I raised two children alone for years. I worked when I was ill. I went without so you had clothes and school trips and all the expensive equipment you insisted you needed.”
“I was a child.”
“You were never an easy child.”
Noah recoiled as if she had touched him.
“You were stubborn,” she continued. “Always dissatisfied. Always determined to embarrass me.”
“Stop.”
My voice made the glass in the office door seem to vibrate.
Diane turned toward me.
“You stay out of this.”
