Chapter 8 - The Uninvited Visitor
Six months of peace shattered on a crisp Tuesday afternoon in October.
Amy was on the front porch hanging potted ferns when a sleek, chauffeured black town car turned slowly onto their gravel road, kicking up dust before parking outside the low picket fence. The rear door clicked open, and Victoria stepped out onto the gravel in pristine Italian suede heels.
She looked entirely out of place against the backdrop of overgrown sea oats and salt-weathered shingles. Her expression was guarded, her eyes darting over the modest exterior with thinly veiled disdain.
Amy froze, her heart leaping into her throat out of old habit. Her immediate instinct was to apologize for her paint-stained apron, for the clutter of toys on the porch, for her existence. But then she heard Leo laughing inside the house, playing with his father who was working from home that afternoon.
Amy wiped her hands on a towel and walked to the top of the porch steps, standing tall.
"Hello, Victoria," Amy said evenly.
May you like
Victoria paused at the bottom of the steps, clutching an alligator-skin handbag against her torso like armor. "Amy. I see you've... downsized. Is my son home?"
"He is," Amy said. She did not invite her inside. "What are you doing here?"
