"What was it?" He was insistent. She stepped back quickly, and her hand knocked a wine-glass from the table to smash noisily on the floor. Hell, my mom hates everyone, don’t take this personally, but she doesn’t like you very much and she isn’t shy about letting me know. She was correct, and when I went directly to the street she had named, there you were, walking into the Butcher Shop. It was horrible, but what could she do? She meant to live her own life, and he meant, with contempt and insults, to prevent her. ‘And it is me you dare accuse? It is yourself you should arrest.
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