My daughter was thrown out by her husband in the middle of a storm. “Mom… he hit me… he said now that he’s a CEO, he needs a wife ‘worthy’ of him.” I wiped her tears and brought her inside. Then I picked up my phone and called my lifelong confidant. “Emergency board meeting. I need to deal with someone.” That arrogant man had no idea what a seventy-year-old mother could do when her child cries at her doorstep.
The storm that night was not just weather; it was a foreshadowing. Rain lashed against the windows of the old Victorian estate on the outskirts of the city, sounding like handfuls of gravel thrown by an angry god. Inside, the house was silent, save for the ticking of a grandfather clock that had measured time…
