“You really need to start watching your weight, sweetheart,” Beatrice said smoothly, her voice carrying across the quiet room. “Those little dresses of yours are already getting far too tight. We certainly don’t want you outgrowing your whole wardrobe before the season changes, do we?”
My fork dropped halfway to my plate.
Beside me, Daniel went completely rigid.
A hot, suffocating wave of protective fury surged through my chest. I placed both palms flat on the table, knowing that if I stood up too quickly, I would say words I could never take back.
Before I could find my voice, however, Clara finished chewing her bite of food, took a calm sip of water, and looked directly across the table at her grandmother.
“But Grandma,” Clara said in her clear, ringing seven-year-old voice, “Daddy said you’re not allowed to talk about people’s bodies anymore.”
Beatrice’s polite smile vanished instantly.
Every face at the table turned toward Daniel.
“I heard him tell you that in the kitchen at Christmas,” Clara added innocently.
Daniel closed his eyes for a long, agonizing second, pressing his fingers to the bridge of his nose. He looked at his mother, his expression thunderous. “You knocked the roll out of her hand.”
