Heat rushed into my face. Before I could answer, Lily slipped down from her chair.
“Granny, you need to hear something.”
She retrieved her iPad from the kitchen counter, placed it before Diane, and pressed play. Diane’s recorded voice filled the room. One clip accused me of avoiding the cooking. Another mocked high-risk pregnancies. Others complained that Mark spoiled me and did everything while I stayed in bed.
The recordings continued for more than six minutes. Mark’s confusion hardened into disbelief. Diane stared at Lily as the color drained from her face.
“You recorded me?” she finally asked.
Lily nodded. “Mom isn’t lazy. She’s keeping my brother safe. Dad helps because he loves us.”
Mark stood slowly. He told Diane to pack her things. She began to protest, but he said our daughter should never have felt responsible for protecting her mother from a grown adult’s cruelty.
Diane did not shout. She gathered her belongings and left within the hour, looking smaller than when she had arrived.
That night, peace returned to our house. Mark rubbed my swollen feet while Lily curled beside me. I thanked her for defending me, but explained that carrying adult problems was not her job.
Her eyes filled with tears. “I know. I just didn’t want you to think…”
She stopped and looked toward the doorway, as though saying the rest might make Diane’s accusations real.
