Chapter 292
Vivienne
I don't know why I'm nervous. All my mother-in-law asked me was to take a glass of warm honey to her daughter—my sister-in-law—and I'm trembling.
I walk up the stairs, and the glass on the small tray shakes. I try to calm myself, but fail. My heart is a frantic bird against my ribs.
I've been avoiding her. Consciously, carefully, doing my best to steer clear of her intense presence since that first, charged dinner.
I can't avoid this without sounding odd, without raising questions I don't know how to answer.
I reach the door of her room on the second floor. I place the tray with the glass on a nearby side table with a large, ugly vase and knock softly.
Then I pick the tray back up, my palms damp.
A soft "Come in" comes from the other side.
I steady myself, turn the handle, and walk in.
