Coral nails.
I laughed once, and it hurt so much Marlene told everyone to pause.
That evening, my mother got past the front desk by crying.
I heard her before I saw her.
“My daughter is being manipulated!” she shouted. “That man is not family!”
Marlene stepped into my room and shut the sliding door halfway.
“Do you want security?”
I looked through the glass.
Mom stood in the hallway clutching her purse, face flushed, hair perfect. Valerie was behind her, scrolling angrily on her phone. Hank hovered near the elevators. David was not there, probably because hospitals still stressed him out.
Thomas sat three chairs away, reading a paperback.
He did not look up.
“Let her in,” I said.
Marlene frowned.
“Just her. And stay.”
Mom entered like a queen entering a battlefield where she expected everyone to remember her crown.
“Jessica,” she said, voice trembling. “You have no idea what that man is doing.”
“I know who Samuel Reed was.”
Her face changed.
There are moments when a mask does not fall. It slips, just enough for you to glimpse the machinery beneath.
“Who told you that name?” she whispered.
“Thomas.”
“He had no right.”
“He was my father.”
“No. Hank is your father.”
“Hank raised me on money Samuel left.”
Her eyes flashed.
“You were a baby. You don’t know what it was like.”
“I know you were supposed to tell me at twenty-five.”
Mom looked at Marlene. “This is private.”
Marlene did not move. “Jessica asked me to stay.”
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