something inside me.
For nearly twenty-four hours, I’d been treated as unreasonable for expecting control over my own belongings.
Now my mother-in-law was asking permission before buying me a simple pair of pants.
“Yes,” I whispered.
“Thank you.”
At four that afternoon, Nick returned carrying snacks for another football game.
He walked into the living room and looked at me.
“Are you feeling calmer?”
“Your parents are coming.”
He stopped.
“You called my mother?”
“Yes.”
“Anna, this is between you and me.”
“You involved your sister before you even spoke
