Chapter 8 - THE MOTHER’S BETRAYAL
I went back to the house a week later.
I didn't bring a lawyer.
I didn't bring documents.
I just wanted to talk to my mother,
one on one.
I found her in the kitchen,
the room where she had once divided a man's life like it was a deck of cards.
She was sitting at the table,
staring at an empty coffee cup.
"Michael moved his things out yesterday,"
she said without looking up.
"He's staying at a motel."
"He said he'll never speak to me again for 'letting this happen'."
"He was never going to speak to you anyway,
Mom,"
I said,
sitting across from her.
"Once the house was in his name,
he would have moved you into a nursing home within a year."
"You know that's true."
She didn't deny it.
She just sighed.
"He’s my son."
"And I'm your daughter."
"The one who changed Dad's bandages."
"The one who sat with him while he died."
"Why wasn't that enough for you to be fair?"
She finally looked at me,
and I saw the shame hidden in the corners of her eyes.
"I was afraid,"
she whispered.
"Michael has a temper."
"Sarah has a way of making me feel like a failure."
"And you..."
"You were always so strong."
"I thought you could handle the loss."
I felt a sharp,
cold laugh bubble up in my throat.
"You thought I could handle being robbed by my own mother?"
"You thought I could handle being called greedy while I was the only one paying the bills?"
"That's not strength,
Mom."
"That's abandonment."
She reached out to touch my hand,
but I pulled it back.
"I checked the lockbox,
Mom."
"The one you had on the coffee table."
"There was a second set of bank books,
wasn't there?"
"The ones with Grandmother's name on them."
She went pale.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Dad's ledger mentioned them."
"He knew you had hidden them."
"He knew you were planning to give them to Sarah in secret."
"I've already told Elias Thorne to look into them."
"If you've moved that money,
it's fraud."
She slumped in her chair,
the last of her defenses crumbling.
"I just wanted them to love me,"
she sobbed.
"I wanted them to need me."
"They didn't love you,
Mom."
"They loved the things you could give them."
"And now that those things are mine,"
"you're finally going to see the truth."
I stood up,
the smell of the kitchen suddenly suffocating.
"I'm keeping the eighty percent,
Mom."
"I'm not giving it back."
"I'll take care of you,
but on my terms."
"No more secrets."
"No more favorites."
May you like
"The wardrobe is empty of lies now."
"I suggest you do the same with this house."
