Grant noticed anyway.
“Family foyer,” he corrected.
Celia finally spoke. “Grant, perhaps we should pause.”
“We have paused for three weeks.”
“She came home from rehabilitation this morning.”
“She came home because she refused another week.”
Evelyn’s hands rested on the wheelchair rims. The right one trembled slightly. She curled her fingers before Grant could see.
He had arranged the gathering as a homecoming, or that was what Celia had been told. Evelyn’s nurse had left forty minutes earlier after making certain the downstairs bedroom had been fitted with a transfer rail and the medications were sorted. Grant had arrived with Vivian before the front doors had fully closed. Claire, Celia, and Thomas came minutes later, each carrying the uneasy politeness of people invited under incomplete pretenses.
The burgundy folder appeared after coffee had been offered and refused.