It was during dessert that everything finally shattered. Tommy, having escaped the children’s table, climbed onto my lap, his fingers sticky with chocolate cake. “Grandma, tell me the story about the princess who saved herself!”

It was our tradition, a story I’d invented for him about a princess who was too clever and strong to need rescuing. But before I could begin, Zariah was on her feet, her face flushed with

rage.