I heard quiet voices and the sound of furniture being moved.
My stomach tightened as I walked down the hallway and pushed the door open.
An elderly woman stood beside Mia’s bed.
Her silver hair was tied into a loose bun, and she wore a pale nightgown beneath an oversized cardigan. Boxes filled half the room. Mia’s desk had been moved, and her bookshelf was gone.
Kyle stood beside the stranger, helping her arrange the furniture.
“What are you doing?” I demanded.
Kyle spun around.
“Alice. You’re home.”
The older woman studied me with a puzzled expression.
“Who is she?”
Before Kyle could answer, she pointed toward the hallway.
“Please be quiet. My little boy is sleeping.”
There was no little boy in our house.
Kyle asked me to speak with him outside, but I refused.
“I want an explanation now.”
The woman placed her hand on Mia’s bed.
