“You’re not her parent,” he added quietly. “No matter how any of this feels, no matter what role we’re playing every day, you are not her stepmom, Greer, and it’s not your responsibility.” My eyes stung, and embarrassment prickled like ice all over my arms and hands. The breath tangled in my lungs, unable to come out clean or easy or smooth. It wasn’t anger or defensiveness; it was humiliation.
