She turned to face him. He noticed that she had several additional strands of gray hair, more than he recalled seeing yesterday. He also noted crow’s feet bracketing her eyes, a detail that he hadn’t observed in the past.

Lily’s death is taking a toll on her, he thought, and felt a stroke of guilt. Could he have done a better job of providing emotional support? He’d been obsessed with her mother to the point that he’d ignored everything else occurring in his household. Perhaps his focus was misplaced.

“What’s the deal with you and this clock?” she asked.

“I only wanted it there, that’s all.”

“It’s not worth arguing about.” She shrugged. “Go ahead and keep your ugly clock.”

He took the spy cam clock out of the nightstand and plugged it in. He would need to wait for Monica to leave the bedroom to check the feed, but he doubted it had recorded anything worthwhile during the short time it had been active. It had been unplugged long before the events of the prior night.

“I wish you would give my mother a chance,” Monica said.

He glanced at her. “Excuse me?”

“I’ve accepted her, Troy, and so have the children. Everyone except you is on board with viewing her as a valuable member of this family. Last night, Lexi even called her ‘nana.’”

“My mom is supposed to be ‘nana.’ Lexi is confused.”

Monica gave him a pointed look.

“Maybe you’re the one who’s confused,” she said. “My mother’s role in this house is clear to everyone else.”

He could only shake his head. She had no clue what was going on. He wondered if Grace was slipping Monica drugs, too, because she was delusional.

After throwing on a t-shirt and pants, he hurried out of the bedroom. On the other side of the house, he approached Grace’s room.

The door was ajar. He was going to knock when Grace called out, “Come in, doctor.”

Heart knocking, he pushed the door open. Grace stood in front of the full-length mirror. She wore only a set of black lace panties—the same pair he recognized from last night’s erotic episode. She was rubbing her flat stomach with one hand, in slow circles. Her breasts were round and full, nipples like chocolate cherries.

He froze on the threshold, his mouth as dry as chalk.

How can she look like this? I thought what I’d seen last night had been a dream.

“Good morning.” Grace winked, as if aware of his thoughts. “Here for another roll in the hay?”

His cheeks burned. He looked over his shoulder to confirm that Monica wasn’t nearby. “What the hell did you do to me? You drugged me.”

Smiling dreamily, Grace tilted her head sideways. She continued to rub her belly. It reminded Troy, crazily, of a pregnant woman caressing the curves of an unborn child.