He turned his head away and let out a long breath.
"Fine. But tomorrow I'm getting a straight answer."
"What did we ever do wrong to make her drag us through the mud like that?"
I shook my head and motioned for him to turn off the light.
That night, we tossed and turned. Neither of us slept.
The next morning, the two of us sat at the dining table with dark circles under our eyes. Spread across the table was every breakfast dish Summer loved.
We waited until eight o'clock, when our granddaughter's cries finally drifted out from the master bedroom.
Only then did Summer come out, carrying the baby in her arms.
She dumped our granddaughter into my lap, grabbed her jacket, and headed straight for the door.
"Stop right there."
My husband's voice wasn't loud, but it was heavy enough to freeze the room.
Summer flinched and turned around, irritation already twisting her face.
"Dad, what are you yelling for? You scared me."
I tugged my husband's sleeve and passed the baby into his arms.
"Summer, wait a moment. Your father and I need to talk to you."
She was about to snap, but something flickered behind her eyes. They lit up instantly.