Maren let out a short, sharp laugh. "Is she really?"

"She says if we don't formally apologize by Sunday, we are cut off. Not financially—she knows I don't need her money—but socially. We will be uninvited from the annual family gala next month, and from Thanksgiving."

"Good," Maren said fiercely.

Graham looked at her, surprised by the venom in her tone.

"Graham, I am never walking into that house again. And my child will never, ever be subjected to the looks and the comments that you had to endure. If she wants an apology, I will give her one. But I want to do it in person."

Graham’s eyes widened. "Maren, no. You shouldn't be near them. Not with your blood pressure, not in your condition."

"My condition is that I am a mother protecting her family," Maren said, her eyes flashing with a terrifying, protective fire. "I am going to see her. And you are coming with me. We are going to end this, once and for all."

Sunday afternoon arrived with a gloomy, overcast sky that seemed fitting for the occasion. The Mercer estate loomed at the end of the long driveway, its grand facade looking more like a fortress than a home.

Rosa opened the door, her eyes widening slightly when she saw Maren and Graham. "Mr. Graham, Mrs. Maren. They are in the conservatory."

Maren nodded kindly to Rosa, remembering the way Corinne had spoken to the housekeeper just days prior. She linked her arm through Graham's, feeling the solid, grounding tension in his muscles. Together, they walked down the long, portrait-lined hallway.

Helena and Corinne were seated among the orchids and ferns, sipping tea from delicate china cups. They looked up as Graham and Maren entered, their expressions identical masks of triumphant expectation. They thought they had won. They thought the threat of exile had brought the prodigal son and his troublesome wife crawling back.

"Graham," Helena said smoothly, setting her teacup down. "Maren. I'm glad you decided to be reasonable."

"Have a seat," Corinne added, gesturing lazily to the wicker chairs opposite them. "Though I suppose Maren might find them a bit uncomfortable in her... state."

"We prefer to stand," Graham said, his voice cold and authoritative.

Helena’s smile faltered slightly. "Very well. I assume you're here to apologize for the dreadful scene you caused at Corinne's birthday. I have spent days fielding questions from Matthew's family about your erratic behavior, Graham."

Maren stepped forward, releasing Graham's arm. She felt a strange, profound calm wash over her. She was no longer the nervous daughter-in-law trying to fit in; she was the guardian of her own family's future.

"We aren't here to apologize, Helena," Maren said clearly, her voice echoing slightly in the glass-domed room.