The kitchen was cold.

Juliette stood up, her purse clutched against her chest.

“You have ruined this family, Annie,” she said, her voice venomous.

“You have turned my son against me.”

“No,” I said, standing my ground.

“You did that when you started treating our home like your personal bank account.”

Juliette turned to Sarah.

“Get your things,” Juliette commanded.

Sarah didn’t move.

“I’m staying at a hotel in town, Mother,” Sarah said.

“And I’m driving myself.”

“Sarah!” Juliette gasped.

“I’m tired of the lies,” Sarah said, walking toward the hallway.

“I’m tired of helping you cover up things that shouldn’t be happening in the first place.”

Sarah walked out, her boots clicking softly on the floor.

Juliette stood alone by the island.

She looked at Dan one last time, waiting for him to say something, to offer an excuse or an apology.

Dan kept his eyes fixed on the floorboards.

With a sharp intake of breath, Juliette turned and walked out of the kitchen.

A minute later, the heavy oak front door closed for the final time that night.