Madison pinched one corner between two perfect nails.
Then she smiled for the camera and said, “We only use designer things here.”
She tossed my hand-knitted blanket in the bin.
Not beside it.
Not near it.
In it.
The room made that small, ugly sound people make when they are too uncomfortable to be decent and too afraid to be brave. Someone looked at a cupcake. Someone fixed a ribbon on a gift bag. Kyle stood frozen with his hand around a paper cup, his face red in a way I had not seen since he was a boy.