Mia moved first, shielding her eyes. “Is Mr. Greene renting to celebrities now?” she joked.
I pushed the door open and stepped out. Mom’s jaw dropped. “Lauren?”
“Hi, Mom. Hi, Mia.” I closed the door and stood there in my blazer and heels. Their gazes darted between me and the car, as if searching for the punchline.
“Since when do you drive that?” Mia asked. “I thought you were still at the hospital.”
“I was,” I said. “I’m not anymore.”
Mom lifted her chin, smoothing her blouse. “Well, see?” she said with forced cheer. “I knew you just needed a push. Tough love worked. You could have called.”
“Tough love,” I echoed. “Is that what we’re calling clearing out my room and throwing coffee on me?”
Her smile tightened. “You were negative, Lauren. We had to make space. Mia needed a quiet room. You were always broke and stressed. It wasn’t fair.”
