Chapter 2: Drawing Lines

But I’m not someone who swallows her anger.

I’m Rachel, and if I’m upset, I don’t hide it. My pulse hammered in my temples as I snapped, "Get out."

For a split second, I remembered every time I’d felt invisible in my own marriage. My voice was sharp, slicing the air.

Laura’s eyes widened. She hadn’t expected me to embarrass her on our first meeting.

She flushed, smile faltering, looking suddenly young and lost.

"S-sorry, Mrs. Jennings."

She scrambled into the back seat, voice trembling.

Michael finished his call and finally noticed the tension. He looked at me with that helpless, indulgent expression I’d grown to resent.

He leaned over to buckle my seatbelt. I yanked it from him, noticing the seat had been moved. I glared at Laura in the rearview.

"Seriously? Who moves my seat? Like, this isn’t your car."

Frustration bubbled up as I adjusted the seat myself, hands fumbling with the lever.

The atmosphere was icy. Laura shrank in the back, silent, her eyes darting between us in the mirror. Michael’s fingers drummed the steering wheel in barely concealed impatience.

He frowned, voice gentler. "If you’re upset, we can bail. It’s not a big deal."

In the rearview, Laura wiped at her tears, breath fogging the window as she sniffled quietly.

I turned around, more irritated than ever. "Laura, right? I’m not in the mood anymore. You can take an Uber home. Mr. Jennings and I are going back."

Her face went pale. She looked to Michael for help, but he didn’t move.

She got out, closing the door with a sound that echoed louder than it should. I watched her walk away in the side mirror, hugging herself against the chill, trying not to cry.