“I refuse to pay fifty thousand dollars for your cruise, Lilia.” The words left my mouth quietly, but they might as well have been a bomb exploding in my son David’s living room. I watched as my daughter-in-law’s perfectly made-up face twisted into something ugly, her manicured fingers gripping the glossy brochure so tightly it crumpled.
“Excuse me?” Lilia’s voice was ice cold, a tone she reserved for making people feel small.
