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Oliver slept.
At 6:00 a.m., Richard burst in, furious.
“You’re fired,” he yelled.
Emily held up her phone.
“I have proof.”
The room went silent.
Finally, Margaret whispered, “What do we do?”
“You burn that mattress,” Emily said. “You get real doctors. And you decide whether you deserve to be parents.”
“I’ll stay,” Emily added, looking at Oliver. “But I’m not just the maid anymore. I’m his advocate.”
And this time—
No one argued.
I do not look back after the hotel vanishes behind the bend of the coastal road. The Gulf Shores night slides past the …
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When I told my mother I had finally bought a house—after ten long years of saving every spare dollar—she grabbed a fist…
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