EMBER’S POV

My baby girl. Like she didn’t cut me off without a second thought eight years ago.

Like she didn’t ignore every call, every text, every desperate attempt I made to reach her during the worst years of my marriage.

“Mother,” I say, and even I can hear how flat it sounds. We are already scheduled for lunch. What are you doing here?”

“Spending time with my daughter, of course! I thought we could have a spa day. Just the two of us.” She finally notices Queenie standing beside me and her smile tightens almost imperceptibly. “And your… friend. How nice.”

“Queenie,” I say. “She’s staying.”

Something flickers in...