Chapter 3

Claire's POV

Barbara ignored how pale I’d gone and plugged the console right back in.

The gunfire came roaring back.

Ethan turned around and stuck his tongue out at me.

The way he stood there—like he’d won—it was as if he’d said it out loud: Nobody in this house cares what you think.

I went back to bed.

One wall away, the game was still blaring.

Every explosion pounded against my heart like a drum.

I couldn’t stand it. I shook Derek’s shoulder.

"Derek, can you please go tell your mom to make him turn it off? She’s got her heart condition—you’re the one who’s always telling me not to upset her."

The only answer was the sound of him snoring.

I lay there with my eyes open, listening to the explosions, wide awake all night. It was nearly dawn before I managed to drift off.

When I woke up, it was past noon.

All night my heart had felt clenched, like a fist. It took me a long time to feel steady enough to get up and open the door.

The living room was full of people.

Barbara’s card club.

They were sitting around the dining table with a deck of cards and a bowl of mixed nuts, gossiping. When they saw me, their faces changed.

"Jesus, Barb, Claire is just now getting up? You’ve got a weak heart! You moved in to be taken care of, not the other way around. If she sleeps till noon, who does she expect to do the housework? You?"

"Well, she hit the jackpot marrying your son, didn't she? He brings home a doctor’s salary, you're stuck playing nanny, and she gets to live like a queen. Must be nice to just lounge around all day on his dime."

One after another, the comments came at me like needles.

Barbara’s eyes crinkled with laughter. She didn’t even look at me. She just played along.

"Yesterday was her birthday. Didn’t say one word to any of us—just went ahead and ordered from Fiorella’s."

"That tray was Five hundred dollars!"

"Nobody knows how to treat herself like she does."

"Five hundred dollars?!" One of the women nearly dropped her hand of cards. "And Derek didn’t say anything? Throwing money around like that—so it’s her birthday, so what? If I didn’t have a job, I wouldn’t have the nerve!"

"Oh, who would dare?" Barbara shot me a look, dropping into a loud stage whisper. "Her parents treated her like a princess. She's far too delicate. So when that expensive takeout showed up, nobody said a peep. Whatever she wants, she gets, and Derek’s doctor salary pays for it."

I was going to let it slide, but when I heard her claim Derek paid for it, something in me snapped.

I turned around. "Barbara."

"When the delivery came, you were the one standing at the front door. You heard the driver say my friend paid for it. You took it from him with a big smile on your face."

"So why are you letting everyone think Derek paid for it?"

"What you’re really telling them is that I’m wasting this family’s money. That I don’t know how to be careful."

It came out all at once.

The room went dead silent.

Barbara’s smile froze on her face.

She stared at me in disbelief. She’d never expected me to fight back.

Eight years. Because of her heart, I had never once raised my voice to her. Every snide comment, every little dig—I’d let it all roll off me.

"Claire? Have you lost your mind?"

"No, I haven’t."

My voice came out completely calm. "I just don’t think I should get called a spendthrift because a friend sent me dinner on my birthday."

"I had savings before I got married. And in all these years, I haven’t spent a dime on myself."

"I’m not who you’re making me out to be. I don’t live off Derek’s money."

When I finished, no one said a word.

All those sharp-tongued women just looked back and forth between me and Barbara. Not one of them knew what to say.

Barbara’s face went pale, then red—and then, just like that, her eyes filled with tears.

"Claire, honey, I think you misunderstood me. When did I ever say you were spending Derek’s money? I only meant Derek does well, so it’s fine if you spend a little."

"And the braised veal—I just wanted everyone to see how lucky you are to eat such a fancy meal! I’m an old woman, sometimes my words come out wrong. If I upset you, you could have just pulled me aside and I would have apologized. Why did you have to humiliate me in front of company like this?"

As she spoke, she suddenly clutched at her chest, gasping for air.