All through dinner, David had mocked Maya again and again.
“She’s lost without me,” he joked, swirling the scotch in his glass. “If I didn’t keep track of everything, she’d probably forget to pay the electric bill.”
“That isn’t true,” Maya said in a small voice. “I’m the one who pays the mortgage... buys the groceries... takes care of your dry cleaning... the insurance...”
She never got to finish.
David’s hand flew across the table.
Now Elena was watching her daughter bent sideways and crying while strangers stared in horror.
Rebecca only watched with quiet satisfaction, as though this public disgrace were nothing more than a normal lesson.