face changed at that. Not grief. Anger. As if I had named the wrong loyalty.
“She turned you against me,” she whispered.
“No,” I said. “You did.”
The doorbell rang.
A moment later, Renee Caldwell walked through the front door wearing a navy suit, silver hair cut neatly at her jaw. Behind her stood a uniformed Harris County deputy. My mother put one hand continue reading …
