“Mom,” I said carefully. “What exactly are you saying?”
“I’m saying that by Saturday you need to be out.” Her voice shifted then, softening into the register she used when she wanted manipulation to look like maternal concern. “Please don’t make this uglier than it has to be. We’ve already spoken to Stephanie. She’ll have movers there Sunday morning. It will be easier for everyone if you’re reasonable.”
Reasonable. That word had followed me through my entire life like a leash held by someone who considered calm agreement a virtue and disagreement a character flaw. Be reasonable, Meredith. Don’t make a fuss. You’re the practical one. You understand.
I had a courtroom waiting. I had Perez, Armstrong, and Hollowell. I said the only word that would buy me what I needed.
“Okay.”
