"You have been quiet for weeks," Grace said.
It was Sunday afternoon. The sisters had come for lunch, as they did every week, and Grace had cooked enough for them. Now Ella sat at the dining table staring at her untouched plate, while Evelyn was on the phone in the garden.
"I am fine, Mama."
"You are not fine. You are eating like a bird."
"I'm not hungry."
Grace sat down opposite her and folded her hands. "Is it business?"
"No."
"Is it money?"
"No."
"Is it a man?"
Ella's head snapped up. Grace's face remained perfectly calm.
"Mama, how…"
"I am your mother. I have been watching you since you were born." Grace poured herself a glass of water. "Who is he?"
For a long time, Ella didn't answer. A breeze moved through the room and rustled the curtains. Outside, Evelyn laughed at something on the phone.
"His name is Nathan," she said finally. "He's a client. He asked me out. I said no."
"Why?"
"Mama." Ella put down her spoon. "You know why."
Grace was quiet. She turned her glass slowly in her hands.
"Because of your father."
"Because of what he did to you. To us." Ella's voice shook, just slightly. "I saw it, Mama. I was ten, and I saw everything. I saw you cry in the dark when you thought we were asleep. I saw you sell your ring. I saw you walk to the clinic with Evelyn on your back." She swallowed. "I will never put myself in that position. I would rather be alone."
"Ella."
"What if I have children, and he leaves? What if I trust someone, and I'm just like you were, with two babies and nothing?"
Grace reached across the table and took her daughter's hands.
"Listen to me. I will tell you something I have not told anyone."
Ella waited.
"I do not regret your father."
"What?"
"I regret what he did. I regret the pain. But I do not regret loving him, because without that love, I would not have you." Grace's eyes were steady. "Yes, he left. Yes, I suffered. But the suffering was never the whole story. The whole story is you and Evelyn, and a house with a gate, and a life I did not know I could have."
"But you suffered so much."
"I did. And I would do it again for you." She squeezed Ella's fingers. "My child, I want you to hear this. What happened to me is not a prophecy. It is not a sentence. It is one woman's story. It is not yours."
Ella's eyes were wet.
"I'm scared, Mama."
"I know."
"What if I'm wrong?"
"Then you will be wrong, and you will survive, because you are the daughter of a woman who survived much worse." Grace smiled. "But what if you are right? What if he is a good man? Will you lose that because of what happened to me?"
Ella did not answer. But that night, in her house, she lay awake, staring at the ceiling.