I turned my back on both of them. I stepped toward the grand entryway, my soaked, rubber-soled shoes squeaking obscenely against the polished hardwood floors.
“I am leaving,” I announced to the air.
Claire rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest, fully convinced she had won the skirmish. “Good riddance. And don’t bother coming back. I’ll make sure your agency knows exactly how insubordinate you are.”
I reached the heavy mahogany door. I wrapped my hand around the brass handle. But I didn’t pull it open.
I paused. I took one deep, centering breath, pulling the scent of lemon cleaner and tension deep into my lungs. Then, I slowly turned around to face the center of the room one last time.
“Claire,” I said, my voice dropping to a temperature that felt like dry ice. “You have absolutely no idea who I am.”
Her triumphant smile faltered, a tiny crack appearing in her porcelain mask. “What is that supposed to mean?”
I didn’t answer with words. I raised my wet, trembling hands to my collar. I unpinned the laminated, fake plastic name tag that read Megan and let it clatter onto the floor.
Then, I reached up, grabbed the edge of the itchy, synthetic brown wig, and pulled it forcefully off my head.
The tight wig cap came with it, releasing my familiar, thick gray waves. They tumbled down around my shoulders, framing a face that was dripping with dirty water, but radiating absolute, maternal fury.
I didn’t require a theatrical monologue. The sudden, horrifying revelation of my actual face was entirely sufficient.
The remaining color instantly, violently drained from Claire’s face, leaving her looking like a wax mannequin. She took a stumbling, uncoordinated step backward, her hand flying to her throat.
In the hallway, Ethan’s eyes widened to comical proportions. It was as if someone had just thrown the main breaker switch in his dark, dormant brain, flooding the room with blinding light.
“Mom…?” he whispered, the word barely a breath.
“Yes, Ethan,” I replied, my voice remarkably steady. “It is me.”
Claire stumbled backward again, her heel catching on the edge of the rug she had just polluted. “Wait… no. No, this is insane. You… why would you possibly…
