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Chapter Eighty: Just... Forget About It
Robyn “Time to face the executioner,” I muttered, as I opened up the door and headed down the stairs to face my mother. I had my purse slung over one shoulder, and I could hear the keys to my new car jingling in there, almost like they were mocking me. I schooled my face into a calm mask, but on the inside, I felt my nerves fluttering in my stomach. I didn’t know how my mother was going to react, and I didn’t want Jack to be a witness if she went totally off the rails. I found her pacing between the living room and the kitchen. She had kicked her heels off by the back door, and I do mean kicked. One of them had landed halfway across the room. Her hair looked a bit wild as it had pulled out of the knot at the base of her neck and was now floating around her flushed face. And her pup
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