“Okay,” I said quietly.
“We’re leaving right now.”
Natalie waved a dismissive hand at us. “Good. Please do.”
And that was it.
No debate or explanation. I turned and walked out with my daughter in my arms while Eric was still talking to relatives and the music was still playing.
He hadn’t seen a single thing.
I carried Sophie to the car, buckled her in, and slid into the driver’s seat with shaking hands. She was sobbing quietly in the backseat, trying to be brave.
“Mommy,” she whispered, “did I do something bad?”
“No, sweetheart.” My throat felt like sandpaper.
“You didn’t do anything wrong.”
She sniffled. “She doesn’t want me there.”
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