The reaction came instantly.
Anger. Accusations. Blame.
My mother called Lily weak. Manipulative. Unfit.
Then Noah started crying.
Out of habit, my mother reached for him.
But Lily stepped back.
That one movement said everything.
“Don’t come near him,” I said.
My voice changed.
And for the first time in my life, my mother stopped.
Not because she understood.
Not because she was sorry.
But because she no longer had control.
“You’ll regret this,” she said.
I answered calmly.
“I regret not seeing it sooner.”
Those words landed harder than anger ever could.
