Fear.
“Emma,” she said. Her voice was shaking. “Emma, tell him to stop. Tell him he’s confused. Please.”
Please.
My mother had never said please to me in my life.
I took a breath.
“He’s not confused, Mom,” I said.
The church was so quiet I could hear the old radiator ticking.
“I have the bank records,” I said. “All of them. I have the foundation’s tax returns. I have the receipt for Paige’s bracelet.” Paige’s hand flew to her wrist. “I have the wire transfer that paid off Lauren’s student loans with my college fund.” Lauren’s face went white. “And I have photographs of a plastic bin in the attic with your handwriting on the lid.”
My mother made a sound. Like something tearing.
“The attorney general’s office has all of it,” I said. “So does Grandpa’s lawyer. There’s a court hearing in two weeks.”
