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Her heels clicked on the marble floor as she walked in, diamonds winking at her throat and ears.
“Sorry, dears,” she said with a smile, sliding into her seat like she was stepping onto a stage. “I had to stop by the boutique. They were holding a dress for me.
We didn’t know. But we nodded anyway.
The evening started fine. She kept things civil for the first thirty minutes.
But as soon as her second glass of wine was poured, I felt the shift. She leaned back in her chair, swirled the deep red liquid in her glass, and gave me that smile I had come to dread.
“So, Emily,” she said, tilting her glass toward me, “how’s… the classroom life?
Still shaping young minds?”
“Yes,” I replied, keeping my voice calm. “We’re reading ‘The Great Gatsby’ this semester.”
She raised her eyebrows like I’d said we were dissecting the Bible.
“Oh, wonderful,” she said, smiling. “Teaching them about poor people pretending to be rich.
I laughed a little, because what else could I do? Ethan reached under the table and squeezed my knee gently.
Karen wasn’t done.
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