overflowed with food: prime steak, garlic butter shrimp, imported cheeses, fine wine, and a huge seafood platter my mother-in-law, Theresa, had ordered to celebrate the birthday of her favorite daughter-in-law, Lauren.
I had just arrived after nearly twelve hours at the office. My name is Mariana. I am thirty-seven, and for four years, I had been married to Daniel, Theresa’s youngest son.
I sat beside my husband, expecting at least a quick greeting. Daniel didn’t even look up.
“You’re late,” he muttered, cutting another piece of steak.
Theresa took the
