“Morgan, please. The basement is not a good place for the baby.”
I swallowed my protest, and my body filled with anger. “I would never put the baby at risk, Jude,” I ground out through clenched teeth. I shoved him away and stalked out of the room.
“That’s not what I meant,” he called out behind me.
It took eight days.
Eight freaking days to empty a room next to church and knock down a wall to another room, giving me twice as much space as I had downstairs. Jude also had a door installed that opened into church.
His explanation was that I needed a second way out, never mind that the room my things had been moved into had two doors already since they didn’t close up the door in the second room that they added to the first.
I wanted to complain, but being next to church, Jenna wouldn’t risk destroying my room again. She wouldn’t be able to come in here without being caught.
“Hey, darling,” my mom said as she walked into my workroom.
“Hi, Mom.”
She looked around the room at the shelves and jars and bowls. I watched her as she moved from shelf to shelf, reading labels. Then she turned around and pierced me with her knowing gaze.
“Where are all the items you’ve already made?”
I turned my back, pretending to straighten items on a shelf across the room from her. With the room as large as it was now, it was easy to keep the distance between us.
“Morgan Amelia Delany, I asked you a question.”
My shoulders slumped, and I knew I would have to tell her. I turned around and faced the woman who raised me, protected me... loved me. Bernadette Delany loved fiercely, and when I told her what happened, she would tear Jenna’s hair out.
“I need you to listen and not react.”
My mother crossed her arms over her chest, and her foot started tapping. I crossed the room and placed my foot on top of hers.
“You are already getting worked up.”
“Where is it, Morgan?”
My hands went to her biceps, and I held her in place when I said, “It was all destroyed.”
Her eyes went wide and her mouth dropped open. “I told them to be careful,” she started.
“It wasn’t the move. It was before that.”
My mother narrowed her eyes and glared at me. “Explain.”
“A few days before my doctor’s appointment, I went downstairs, and the room was trashed. Everything had been broken.”
“That’s why you ordered new stuff,” she surmised. “Did you tell Jude?”
“No, and I’m not going to.” I walked away from my mother before she saw something in my eyes I didn’t want to admit. That I didn’t think he’d care. That he might even be happy and try to use it as a reason to make me stop working.
“Do you know who it was?”
“No, but I suspect it was Jenna. She seems to think Jude belongs to her. I told her she could have him—”
“Morgan!”
I spun around. “What, Mom?”
She pressed her lips together, and her nostrils flared as she tried to contain her temper.