"Oh, for goodness' sake, Mother, breathe," Adrian said, rubbing his temples. His voice was already worn thin, and it was not even noon.
Miranda drew in a sharp breath, her face flushed, eyes wild. "Do not act like I am being dramatic," she snapped. "My life is over, Adrian."
She let out another wail, pressing a hand to her chest.
"Mother," Adrian said tightly, "just call Rosa again. Maybe she stepped out to do some last-minute errands."
Miranda lunged forward and grabbed his shirt, fingers digging into the fabric. "You think I have not done that," she yelled. "She blocked my number. She moved out of her quarters. The car she uses for errands is still in the garage."
Her voice broke, sliding straight into another sob. "How could she leave on the most important day of my life."
Adrian took a slow breath, forcing himself to stay silent. He bit back the comment already on his tongue about how unbearable his mother had been all week. Irritable. Sharp. Impossible.
