7
Grace.
She wore red lipstick. The expensive kind.
Her hair was smooth and glossy, her coat perfectly cinched at the waist, and her voice, God, her voice dripped with curated concern when she said, “Well, isn’t this domestic?”
I was holding a laundry basket full of Sophie’s socks when I turned the corner and saw her in the foyer, one manicured hand rested on her hip, the other was casually holding sunglasses like we weren’t inside a house with zero sun.
Nadia.
Daniel’s ex.
I didn’t need an introduction. I knew exactly who she was the second I saw the tension shoot down Daniel’s spine.
Sophie ran to her, arms wide. “Mommy!”
She crouched, hugged her tight. “There’s my baby,” she cooed, her voice soft and sugary, eyes flicking up over Sophie’s shoulder, right to me.
“I didn’t know
