“Her lease is up,” Diane announced, walking straight past me into my kitchen. “She’ll stay here until the baby is a few months old.”
I stared at my husband, Eric. “You told me she was visiting for the weekend.”
He shrugged. “Plans changed.”
“This is our home. You don’t move someone in without asking me.”
Diane’s expression hardened. “Family doesn’t need permission.”
Madison dropped onto my sofa and kicked off her shoes. “Relax. It’s not forever.”
Within days, my guest room had become a nursery. Boxes crowded the hallway. Diane reorganized my kitchen, threw away food she disliked, and informed me that I would drive Madison to medical appointments because I “worked flexible hours.”
I didn’t.
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