Mark didn’t move.
Didn’t stop her.
Diane pressed down on the back of his neck.
“Say it.”
Tyler opened his mouth.
“She didn’t hit me.”
Tyler’s first sentence wasn’t an accusation.
Diane’s fingers dug into the back of his neck.
“Say that again!”
“She didn’t hit me.”
He was crying so hard he could barely breathe, but he got every word out.
“Grandma said to put the firecrackers under the chair. She said you’d fake being sick. She said if I got it on video, she’d give me fifty bucks.”
Diane swore and reached for his mouth.
“You’re crazy!”
I knocked her hand away and pulled Tyler behind me.
“You’re the crazy one. You paid a kid fifty bucks to blow me up and film it for the family group chat.”
Diane took a step forward. Her nails came within an inch of my face.
