“Embarrassing you?” I repeated. “Your brother called my children ‘extras.’ Your mother erased them from the family table. Your sister printed ‘Guest Kids’ on their name tags.” I pointed toward Ursula and Nick. “And you laughed.”
Nobody moved.
The grill crackled in the distance.
Somewhere behind the barn, a child screamed happily from the bounce house, completely unaware an entire family was imploding twenty yards away.
Lorraine drew herself upright, pearls glinting against her throat. “Now, Betty, surely we can discuss this privately—”