“Approximately one hundred and forty-six thousand dollars.”
I stared at him.
The number didn’t feel real.
Brielle suddenly yelled, “Mom said Natalie knew!”
My mother spun around.
“Shut up.”
The officer moved closer.
“No. Keep talking.”
Brielle’s face crumpled.
“You said she’d agreed!”
“Stop.”
“You said she owed us!”
“Brielle.”
“You said it was family money!”
“SHUT UP!”
I had never heard my mother scream like that.
Everyone froze.
Grant stood beside the bed with one hand gripping the rail.
“Why?” I asked.
Diane looked at me.
Not ashamed.
Not guilty.
Angry.
“You want to know why?”
“Yes.”
She gave a small, bitter laugh.
“Because you’ve spent your whole life pretending you built everything yourself.”
It felt like a slap.
“I never said that.”
“You didn’t have to.”
She pointed at me.
