I couldn’t make them form a sensible sentence.
“Over me?”
“They claim you cannot manage your personal or financial affairs safely.”
Mom moved toward her.
“We’re concerned about our daughter.”
“Mom,” Chloe said.
“Not now.”
I felt the hallway tilting.
“I work.
I’m in college.”
“We know,” Nora said.
“Your father’s petition describes a different situation,” Marianne added.
Dad’s voice hardened.
“This is hardly an appropriate place to discuss private family matters.”
“You brought a moving crew,” Nora said.
Mom reached toward me.
I stepped back before she could touch my face.
“You’ve been under terrible strain, sweetheart.”
Sweetheart.
I had waited seventeen years to hear something like that.
Now she offered it because someone was taking notes.
“You told me to pack.”
“You misunderstood.”
“You said the house belonged to you.”
“You’re upset.”
Marianne opened her satchel.
“I was appointed to investigate the petition and report my findings.
