I’d said it without thinking. For once, I didn’t wish it back. It was the truth.

“Well, it’s a nice little bit of serendipity, isn’t it?”

She beamed, stretching her hand across the table as if I would take it right now. As if I would let her anywhere near me.

“Is that what you said when you got pregnant with me?” I didn’t recognize the voice coming out of me, but I let it talk. “‘What a nice little bit of serendipity’? Or did you even notice I’d shown up?”

“I noticed.” Her cheeks twitched. “Believe me, I noticed, I was sick for months—what are you trying to say here, Ruby? You’re starting to sound like your sister.”

Rage pulled me from the table. “Who are you? Who the fuck are you?”

Grandma Jean went pale. I raised my hand.

“Sorry Grandma, I don’t mean to curse, I just . . . I want my mom back. I had one once, I swear I did.”

My face contorted but the tears didn’t come, scorched dry by my anger.

“You left me and—look at you, you don’t even care. ‘A nice little bit of serendipity’? Who are you? Who says that about their child? What am I, a dollar you found on the sidewalk?”

Mom had her face buried in her hands, Victor’s hand on her back, hiding from me even now.

I backed away, grinning wildly. “And Victor, you seem like a great guy and you look super awesome in your pantsuit, but who the fuck are you?”

Mom shot up from the table. “Ruby, say what you want to me, but—”

“Introduce him, then, Mom. Introduce him. Not, this is a famous cellist. Say ‘This is the man I’ve been sleeping with this whole time.’ Or is he new?”

Victor chugged his wine.

“He’s . . . not new.”

“Did you leave Dad for him?”

“No.” Mom’s jaw twitched. “I left your dad for me.”

There was such ferocity in her voice that I forgot to breathe for a second.

She pointed to herself. “So I could live. So I could work. Out of his shadow.”

“Do you—?” My mouth clamped shut. I couldn’t say it. I was marathon winded, vision spotting.

Grandma Jean stood, rubbing my shoulders like she was trying to make me smaller. “Why don’t we cool down, honey? Get some air outside.”

“Or we could see this through,” Gramps cut in—the retired judge issuing his verdict. “Anna, you’re my only child, I love you dearly, but you have a hell of a lot to answer for.”