"Where did you get those?"

My mother fired as I stood frozen in the doorway, my fingers still wrapped around the handles of the shopping bags that suddenly felt like they weighed a thousand pounds.

"I asked you a question, Cynthia." She took a step toward me. "Where did you get designer shopping bags?"

My father stood up from his chair beside Alex's bed, his face already hardening into that expression I knew too well.

"Those are from Valentino," he said slowly, "And Dior. Do you have any ...