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THE RIGHT THING FEELS WRONG.
RUBY JUNE. “Hi, darling.” My mother’s voice dripped with a sweetness that felt foreign to my ears as her fingers grazed my cheek. Her touch was light, too light as if she had never really known how to be gentle. “You look… better than usual today.” I forced a smile back, a small one, as I watched her glide into the chair opposite me. The moment she was seated, she clapped her hands. The chefs began streaming in, one by one, each carrying a tray more elaborate than the last. She clasped her hands together when the final dish was placed on the table, practically glowing. “I brought in the best chef for this… wonderful occasion,” she announced, pride swelling in her voice. “I have not felt this good in years. It feels like my life is finally—finally—turning around.” She forked a piece o
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