Her eyes dropped to Ren.
“Oh, look at her.”
She stepped forward.
Her hands lifted.
Instinct moved faster than thought.
I stepped back.
Mom froze.
Something flickered across her face—not hurt.
Offense.
As if I had broken some agreement I didn’t know existed.
“She’s my granddaughter.”
“You’ve known she existed for four weeks.”
“That doesn’t change what she is.”
I almost laughed.
Then Mom looked past my shoulder toward the brass nameplates Silas had installed beside the blue front door.
SILAS CALLAHAN.
COLLEEN CALLAHAN.
