Chapter 1 - SHE ARRIVED WITH A COPY OF MY DEED
My mother reached our townhouse at 7:46 the next morning.
I knew because Ethan was standing at the front window when her silver SUV jerked into our driveway hard enough for one tire to climb the curb.
“She's here,” he said.
Lily was still asleep upstairs.
“Keep the door locked.”
Diane didn't bother knocking normally.
She hammered her fist against the door.
“Emily!”
I opened it only after Ethan stepped beside me.
Mom stood on the porch in yesterday's clothes, clutching several sheets of paper.
Her face was red.
“You bought a four-bedroom house?”
“Merry Christmas to you too.”
“Where did you get three hundred and eighty thousand dollars?”
That caught my attention.
County records showed the sale price.
They did not show exactly how we financed it.
“What makes you think that's your business?”
“You told everyone you were struggling!”
“No. You told everyone that.”
Lauren's car pulled up behind her.
Of course.
Mom shoved a printed property record toward me.
“Your name and Ethan's. Closed December fourth.”
“Yes.”
“You lied.”
“About what?”
“About not having money.”
I felt something inside me go cold.
“We cut expenses because Ethan changed jobs. That doesn't mean we're broke.”
“You used family money.”
“No.”
“My mother's money.”
There it was.
Grandma Ruth.
The investment account she had left directly to me seven years earlier.
Not to Mom.
Not to Dad.
Not to “the family.”
Me.
Ethan's voice sharpened.
“Diane, you need to leave.”
She ignored him.
“I knew Robert was giving you money behind my back.”
“Dad repaid a loan.”
“Stop saying that!”
Lauren stepped onto the porch.
“Emily, if Grandma left that account, shouldn't Mom have gotten it?”
“No.”
Mom's expression twisted.
“You think you're smarter than everyone because Grandma liked you.”
I almost laughed.
Grandma hadn't merely “liked” me.
During the final three years of her life, I drove her to oncology appointments, filled her prescriptions, cleaned her house, and spent weekends sleeping on her sofa when she became afraid to be alone.
Lauren visited four times.
Mom mostly complained Grandma was “too negative.”
Grandma made her choices while fully competent.
Then Dad's car appeared.
He parked halfway into the street and rushed toward us.
“Diane, stop.”
Mom spun around.
“You knew about this!”
“Yes.”
That surprised even me.
Dad looked at me.
“I knew they were buying a house.”
Mom stared at him.
“You helped her steal from us?”
Dad's entire face changed.
“For God's sake, Diane, Ruth's account never belonged to us.”
Silence.
Lauren looked confused.
Mom looked furious.
Dad continued before he lost his nerve.
“Emily didn't steal anything. And the money I gave her in April was repayment because I owed her forty-eight thousand dollars.”
Lauren's mouth fell open.
Mom hissed, “Robert.”
But Dad was finally talking.
“No. I'm done letting you call her a leech.”
He reached inside his coat and pulled out a folded document.
I recognized it instantly.
The promissory note.
Two years earlier, Dad had borrowed $68,000 from me after telling me their house was in immediate financial trouble.
He had repaid only $20,000.
Mom had signed the agreement too.
But she apparently thought I would never show anyone.
Dad looked at Lauren.
“Your sister didn't come to us for money.”
Then he looked directly at my mother.
“We came to her.”
Lauren slowly turned toward Mom.
And Dad delivered the part none of us expected.
May you like
“Diane, tell them what the sixty-eight thousand dollars was really used for.”
Mom went completely still.
