That was beautiful, sweetheart,” I called back, meaning every word. These fleeting moments with my grandchildren were the only reason I endured these increasingly tense family events.

Amanda appeared beside me, holding a glass of wine that was clearly not her first. “Lucia, we need to talk about something.” She sat, uninvited, positioning herself so close I could smell her expensive perfume mingled with the sharp scent of Chardonnay. My heart rate quickened. Conversations that began with “we need to talk,” in Amanda’s vocabulary, rarely ended well for me.