I could see the confusion in Jean’s eyes, and my heart ached for her. Jacqueline paused, her gaze shifting between Jean and me. It was as if she was weighing her words carefully, and what she said next left me utterly speechless.
“Jean, sweetheart,” Jacqueline began, attempting a warm tone that couldn’t mask the chill in her actions, “I just realized that the bike isn’t safe for you. The tires are a bit worn, and I’d hate for you to get hurt. I just love you too much to take that risk.”
My jaw dropped. This was the woman who had once argued that children should learn from their own mistakes and that bubble-wrapping them was nonsense. Her sudden overprotectiveness didn’t sit right with me, and it was evident that this wasn’t the whole story.
