ou’re the one who wanted a big family,” he shrugged, the cruelty of it breathtaking.

“They’re your children too, Nicholas!”

“Lisa, I know everything you’re about to say,” he cut her off, reciting a line that was clearly not his own. “It’s not going to change anything. Mom and I… we’ve discussed it. I’ve made my decision.”

“Your mother?” Lisa whispered, the betrayal a physical blow. “What does she have to do with this? We are your family!”

“I was wrong,” he said simply. “Pack your things. I’ll take you to your grandmother’s old house.”

The bottom fell out of her world. “The old house on Willow Creek? No one has lived there in a decade! It’s falling apart! How can I possibly manage there with four small children?”

Nicholas just shrugged again, a perfect imitation of his mother’s indifference. “Mom and I can give you a little money for repairs. Not a lot, of course.”

It took every ounce of strength Lisa possessed to pull herself together. She looked at her four children—eight-year-old Alex, six-year-old Michael, and the infant twins—and a spine of steel formed where her shattered heart had been. We will not be broken, she vowed silently.