Chapter 6 - The Audacity and the Ask
When I didn't move to unchain the door, my father's polite mask began to slip.
"Listen to me," he said, lowering his voice to his authoritative tone.
"Eighteen million dollars is too much for a grieving widow to handle alone. People will take advantage of you. The lawyers will drain you dry. I've already spoken to my financial advisor. We can set up a family trust."
"A family trust," I echoed.
"Yes," my mother eagerly interrupted. "To protect the money. And you know, your sister's wedding is coming up in June. It's been so stressful. The venue prices are outrageous. We were thinking, since you're doing so well now, maybe you could help sponsor the wedding. As a gift to the family."
I looked at Melissa.
She gave me a pathetic, pouting smile.
"I just really want my big sister there, Claire. And I'd love it if you could cover the catering and the floral arrangements. It would mean the world to me. It would heal us."
I actually laughed.
It wasn't a happy sound. It was a harsh, jagged noise that echoed in the cold evening air.
"You want me to pay for your wedding," I said.
"Well, you have more money than you could ever spend in a lifetime now," Melissa snapped, her true colors flashing for a split second. "It's the least you could do after ruining my birthday!"
Silence fell over the porch.
Even my parents looked momentarily shocked that she had said the quiet part out loud.
"Ruining your birthday," I whispered.
"I mean..." Melissa stammered. "You didn't have to cause such a scene. I missed you, that's all."
I looked at the three of them.
I looked at the faces of the people who were supposed to protect me, love me, and stand by me when my universe shattered into dust.
"My husband and children were crushed to death," I said, my voice barely above a whisper, yet carrying the weight of a storm.
"And you went to a French restaurant."
"Claire, that's in the past," my father said impatiently. "We made a mistake. We're here now. We are offering to manage your assets."
"You didn't make a mistake," I corrected him. "You made a choice. You chose a dinner reservation over your dead grandchildren."
May you like
"Don't be melodramatic," my mother hissed, losing her patience. "We are your family. You owe us."
"I don't owe you anything," I said, stepping closer to the gap in the door. "I owe Ethan. I owe Lily. I owe Noah. And I am giving everything to them."
