Part 2
I did not shout that night.
That frightened them more than shouting would have.
I made Elena soup with trembling hands and watched her eat three spoonfuls before crying into the bowl. She apologized. For being weak. For being sick. For needing help.
I held her hand and said, “No more apologies.”
Mia stood in the doorway, arms crossed. “This is ridiculous. She’s playing victim because I asked her not to interfere with my life.”
Brent leaned against the counter. “Your daughter’s been handling things while you were gone. Maybe thank her.”
I looked at him. “Take off my watch.”
His grin faded. “Mia said I could wear it.”
“I didn’t ask who lied to you.”
For a second, the kitchen became silent.
Brent removed it and placed it on the counter.
Mia’s face flushed. “You can’t talk to him like that.”
“This is my house.”
She laughed. “Actually, you put everything in Mom’s name for tax reasons, remember? And she’s not exactly sharp right now.”
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My mother pushed me into the freezing rain, and my sister threw my suitcase after me, sneering that I’d lost Dad’s estate by marrying a poor mechanic. But when three black SUVs arrived and my husband stepped out in a tailored suit, their confidence disappeared instantly. 1
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