There was a moment of silence, then Brenda snapped, “You’ve let that man turn you into a stranger. You’re no daughter of mine.” She hung up. I stood there, phone in hand, my belly tight with a tension so profound it was physical.

A few days later, a surprise call from Brenda. Her voice was unusually warm. “I’ve been thinking,” she said. “Let’s put all this behind us. I’m inviting everyone over for dinner Sunday night. A fresh start.” A part of me, the part that still yearned for a mother’s love, wanted to believe her. Luke and I agreed to go.