Months later, she invited her children to Sunday dinner.
Ethan arrived first, checking emails between bites of roast chicken. Claire followed, arms crossed the moment she sensed something unusual.
Margaret folded her napkin carefully. “I’ve met someone.”
Claire blinked. “Met someone?”
“I’m seeing a man. His name is Daniel.”
Silence fell over the table like a dropped curtain.
Ethan frowned. “How old is he?”