That was the first decision I made that night without looking at my husband for permission.
The nurse brought me my purse. My phone had seven missed calls from Judith and a stream of messages in the family group chat.
Graham had written one sentence while I was inside the scanner:
Mom didn’t mean to push Nora. Please don’t make this bigger than it is.
He had admitted the truth to the entire family while asking the hospital to believe a lie.
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Before I could show the nurse, voices rose outside. Judith had arrived in the same cream cardigan she wore at dinner, a dark casserole stain drying near the hem.
She pushed past Graham and stopped when she saw me, the cut sweater, and Dr. Mercer’s chart.
Her face turned pale.
Then she pointed at me and said, “Tell them I never touched you.”
