Edel Kavanagh stormed into the kitchen like a hurricane, the door slamming behind her with a sharp thud. Her eyes were locked, and her voice cut through the morning calm like a knife.

“When were you planning on telling me you were with that Lynch?” she demanded, hands on her hips, staring down at Johnny.

Johnny groaned, shifting uncomfortably as he bit into his toast, trying to keep his cool. His mouth was half full, but the irritation was clear in his voice when he finally spoke. “Ma, I’m not with Shannon, alright?” He snapped, wiping his hands on a dish towel, trying to sound casual, but the edge in his tone betrayed him.

Edel’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t lie to me, Johnny. Not Shannon. The older one. The one currently in your bed!” Her voice dropped.

Johnny swallowed hard, his toast forgotten halfway to his mouth. “What are you talking about?” he asked, forcing a laugh, though it was weak. “I don’t even know who you mean.”

Edel crossed the room swiftly. “Don’t play dumb. You think I haven’t heard the rumors? The way you’ve been sneaking around, the late nights, the phone calls you try to hide?” Her voice cracked with frustration. “You’re lying to me, Johnny. And I want to know why you though you needed to keep this from me.”