He turned away.
Robert, who had followed her in a minute later, released an irritated laugh. “That’s different. We’re his parents.”
“And Elaine and Martin are mine,” I replied.
Robert’s face reddened. He was a large man whose voice filled every room whether anyone wanted it to or not. For years, I had watched people adjust themselves around his temper simply to keep the peace.
I used to be one of those people.
Not anymore.
Megan arrived fifteen minutes later, breathless and theatrical, carrying an iced coffee she apparently could still afford. She barely greeted me before speaking.
“I just think it’s insane that you’d punish all of us because of one argument with Daniel.”
I looked at the drink, then her designer gym bag, and finally her face.
“Megan, I paid your phone bill for two years.”
She crossed her arms. “Daniel said you didn’t mind.”
“I minded.”
“Well, you never said anything.”
“I did,” I answered. “Several times. Daniel told me I was being selfish.”
Everyone turned toward him again.
Daniel pressed his lips into a narrow line. “Can we not turn this into an attack on me?”
I nearly laughed.
That sentence explained everything.
He did not regret what had happened.
He regretted being identified as the person responsible.
Linda leaned forward. “Claire, we are not here to fight. We’re here to solve this. The mortgage is behind now. Robert’s truck payment is late. Megan needs help until she gets another job. We just need things to go back to normal.”
“Normal for whom?” I asked.
“For the family,” Linda replied.
I stood and walked to the small desk beside the window. From one drawer, I removed a folder.
Daniel noticed immediately.
“What is that?” he asked.
“Records.”
I returned to the dining table and opened it.
Inside were printed bank statements, highlighted transfers, dates, amounts, and notes. I had not prepared them because I expected this exact gathering. I had prepared them because Daniel’s declaration in the kitchen had made me realize I needed to see the truth on paper.
I placed the first page on the table.