Chapter 1 - The Slap
The slap came so fast Emily Mercer never saw Gloria's hand move.
One second she was carrying a bowl of steaming chestnut soup toward the Christmas table. The next, her cheek exploded with pain and the bowl flipped from her hands.
Boiling soup poured across her right wrist.
For half a second, nobody moved.
Then Daniel's cousin Tyler laughed.
It was a nervous laugh, but it gave everyone else permission. Gloria's sister covered her mouth. Someone muttered, "Well, she finally dropped something expensive." A few people snickered.
Her husband, Daniel, remained seated.
"Daniel," she whispered.
He sighed as if she had embarrassed him. "Mom was trying to make a point, Emily. You know how she gets when you talk back."
Gloria straightened the sleeve of her red silk dress. "A wife should know when to stop arguing with her husband's mother. Consider it a lesson."
Emily's face went numb before the burn did.
She had spent four years shrinking herself for this family. Four years apologizing for meals she hadn't ruined, holidays she hadn't planned, jokes she hadn't understood. Four years telling herself Daniel would eventually see it.
Emily pulled off her wedding ring.
The room quieted.
She placed the ring beside Daniel's plate.
His expression finally changed. "What are you doing?"
"Learning," she said.
"Don't be dramatic."
"Your mother just hit me."
"And you're making Christmas worse."
"Then enjoy Christmas without me."
The dining room doors opened.
Henry Mercer stood there holding a thick cream envelope.
Daniel's father had been at the hospital all afternoon for tests. He looked pale and exhausted, but his eyes were sharp.
He saw Emily's swollen cheek.
Then her burned wrist.
Then the wedding ring beside his son's plate.
"What happened?" he asked.
Gloria answered too quickly. "Emily had one of her scenes."
Henry looked at Emily. "Did she hit you?"
Emily said nothing.
Daniel stood. "Dad, this isn't your problem."
Henry's gaze shifted to him.
"Before you throw Emily out," he said, "you should probably know whose name is actually on this house."
Nobody breathed.
Gloria went white.
"Henry," she whispered, "don't."
The first page was a recorded deed.
It was not Gloria.
It was not Daniel.
It was Emily Rebecca Carter Mercer.
And beneath the deed was another document bearing Daniel's signature.
May you like
A signature dated three months earlier.
A signature on a form requesting that Emily never be told.
