“Over the past thirty-six months, I sent your family $90,000.”
Megan’s mouth opened.
Linda blinked rapidly. “That can’t be right.”
“It is right,” I said. “I checked it three times.”
Robert shifted in his seat.
I pointed to each entry.
“Mortgage assistance. Truck payment. Megan’s insurance. Megan’s phone. Emergency dental bill. Credit card minimum. Property tax shortage. Another mortgage shortage. Christmas travel. Birthday dinner. Rental deposit for your cousin Kyle, which was somehow also my responsibility.”
Linda’s voice became sharper. “You offered.”
“No,” I said. “Daniel volunteered me, and I was pressured until saying no felt like starting a war in my own home.”
Daniel stepped forward at last. “That is not fair.”
I turned toward him. “Did you or did you not tell your mother last year that I had extra money because I got a bonus?”
His eyes shifted.
“Daniel?”
He exhaled. “I mentioned it.”
“And two days later, your mother asked me for $3,000.”
Linda lifted her chin. “We needed a roof repair.”
“You needed a vacation deposit,” I replied.
The room turned cold.
I had not intended to say it so sharply, but once the words landed, I did not regret them.
Linda narrowed her eyes.
Robert stared at the floor.
Megan suddenly became deeply interested in her phone.
Daniel lowered his voice. “How did you know that?”
“Because Megan posted photos from Cabo three weeks later.”
Megan flushed. “That was planned before.”
“And paid after,” I said.
For several seconds, the only sound was the refrigerator humming.
Linda recovered first.
