“She wrote me two weeks ago.”
I took the paper.
Maya had told Adele I was bitter. That I’d made things hard. That I’d kept the girls close because I wanted to punish her.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I wanted to know what she was doing first.”
“She wrote me two weeks ago.”
“And now?”
“Now I know.”
Jerome, Adele’s fiancé, stepped into the kitchen with seating cards in his hand and stopped when he saw our faces.
“Bad time?”
Adele looked at him. “My mother texted Dad.”
Jerome set the cards down. “She’s coming?”
“My mother texted Dad.”
“With Harry,” Adele said. “And I need the box.”
I looked at him. “Don’t get dragged into this.”
“I’m marrying into this family in three days,” he said. “I think the dragging already happened.”
Adele touched my arm. “Please, Dad. Let me handle it.”
