Before marrying Jasper, Vivienne had dug up everything there was to know about the people around him. She knew all about Hilda.
A silent sneer curled behind her lips.
Hilda really ought to take a good look in the mirror before playing the childhood-sweethearts card with Jasper.
Grandma Nora stared at the scattered photos on the floor. Her vision blurred, darkening at the edges, and her legs nearly gave out beneath her.
Then, without warning, Vivienne's voice shifted to something soft and coy.
"Jasper, you're finally here! This woman barged in out of nowhere, throwing her age around and making a scene. She keeps insisting you're her granddaughter's husband."
Grandma Nora forced her clouded eyes open as wide as they would go. She shifted her stiff body, and the moment she saw Jasper, she reached for him on instinct.
"Jasper, dear."
But this man who had once sat at a hospital bedside holding Hilda's hand and promising to love her granddaughter for the rest of his life now stood frowning at the old woman. "What are security doing? How did they let someone like this in?"
He stepped on the photo beneath his shoe.