Chapter 12 - The Wreckage in the Hallway
I stood in the doorway of room 304, my hand resting on the cool brass handle, staring at my daughter-in-law.
Tori had always prided herself on curated perfection. For seven years, every holiday dinner, every Sunday barbecue, and every family photograph had been an orchestrated performance of linen dresses, blowout curls, and effortless motherhood. The woman standing before me looked like she had crawled out of a storm drain. Her designer trench coat had dark, oily smudges along the hem, her mascara was smeared across her hollow cheeks like war paint, and she smelled of stale airplane recycled air and bitter sweat.
"Mom," she choked out again, reaching a hand toward my cardigan.
I took half a step backward, letting her hand drop into the empty air between us.
"Don't call me Mom, Tori," I said, my voice steady, lower and calmer than I felt inside. "My name is Myrna. And what in God’s name are you doing in Portugal?"
Behind me, Linda stepped up, folding her arms across her chest like an iron gate. "And how did you even know what hotel we were staying at?" Linda demanded, her tone offering zero hospitality.
Tori flinched, wiping her nose with the back of her sleeve. "Patrice," she whispered, her voice cracking. "I begged Patrice when we landed in Tokyo. She wouldn't talk to me at first, but when Caleb... when Caleb lost his mind at the terminal, I didn't know what else to do. Patrice told me you were in Lisbon at the heritage boutique hotel by Rossio Square. She thought Caleb was the one coming to find you."
"Patrice shouldn't have given you our location," I said tightly.
"I didn't have anywhere else to go!" Tori cried, her voice rising to a shrill register that threatened to echo down the quiet, carpeted corridor. "Caleb took everything! He left me at Narita!"
I looked at the woman who, less than a week ago, had dumped four young children on my porch at dawn without a backwards glance, treating me like an unpaid, disposable appliance in her domestic machine.
"Step inside," I said, stepping aside just enough to let her pass. "Keep your voice down. We are guests in this hotel, and I will not have you causing a scene here."
Tori stumbled past me into the room, collapsing onto the edge of the plush velvet armchair near the balcony. She curled her knees to her chest, trembling violently.
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"Now," I said, closing the door and locking the deadbolt with a decisive click. "Tell me exactly what happened, and do not leave out a single detail."
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