She stood in the kitchen doorway, the light catching the edge of the invitation in her hands. There was a hopeful softness in her smile—one I didn’t truly see until it disappeared. Without thinking, without cruelty but full of arrogance, I spoke.

“Do you really want to go?” I said lightly. “I mean… it might be awkward. You’re just a stay-at-home mom now. You might feel out of place.”

The words hung in the air longer than I expected.