“This is your fault,” Esme hissed, but instead of protesting, Madeline furrowed her brow, worry lines creased. Madeline was nervous. Life was better without you, Madeline’s words echoed. Esme’s mouth tasted like she’d licked a lemon. If she’d gotten up and defended Lily instead of leaving her alone in the living room with bitch-face Madeline, she’d probably be at the table now, twirling spaghetti around her fork and calling them worms.
