Holt cleared his throat. “Mom, we’ve been over this. Tate’s our son now, and we’re doing what’s best for him.”
Mila waved a hand. “Yes, yes. I just think family ties run deeper, that’s all.”
I held my tongue, knowing Mila was still hurting from her husband’s death. She’d been living with us since he passed, and we thought it would help her heal. Now, I wasn’t so sure.
“Let’s finish packing,” I said, wanting to move on. “Our anniversary trip is tomorrow.”
“Oh, your little getaway,” Mila said. “Are you sure it’s okay to leave the boy so soon?”
