She posted another picture—a certificate made of gold leaf and diamonds.
It read: To the most precious little darling in the world.
Nausea surged through me without warning. I ran to the bathroom and dry-heaved over the sink.
My phone rang. It was the school.
"Hello, is this Felix Mason's mother?"
"Today is the first parent-teacher conference for our first graders. Will you be able to attend?"
I froze. A parent-teacher conference?
Felix hadn't said a word about it.
Still, he was the child I'd raised with my own hands. So I went.
But when I arrived at the school and introduced myself, the homeroom teacher stared at me, confused.
"You're saying you're Felix's mother? Then who's that inside?"
I looked toward the classroom on instinct.
Audrey was sitting right next to Felix.
A few of the children overheard our conversation. They looked me up and down, taking in my clothes, and wrinkled their noses.
"Felix, didn't you say the pretty lady next to you was your mom? So who's this ugly old woman?"
"Which one's the real one? We don't play with liars!"
Felix looked at Audrey—her styled hair, her perfect makeup, the designer dress she wore.