Chapter 3
Danielle stood frozen, lips parted, shoulders locked.
The woman he had trusted with his home while he served overseas looked smaller now.
Not innocent.
Cornered.
Ethan didn’t yell.
That made it worse.
“What else is on this?”
Danielle blinked fast.
“Ethan, I was stressed.”
He stared at her.
“Wrong answer.”
“I took care of everything while you were gone.”
“You took care of my mother by threatening her?”
Danielle’s eyes filled with panic.
“You don’t understand what it’s like being trapped in this house with her. Her medicine, her appointments, her crying, her asking for you every single night like I wasn’t the one here.”
Margaret lowered her eyes.
Ethan looked at the papers near the bed.
The top page had no readable writing from where he stood, but he knew enough.
“Were you trying to make her sign over the house?”
Danielle’s lips pressed together.
“She doesn’t need it.”
“She lives here.”
“She barely knows where she is half the time.”
Margaret made a small wounded sound.
Ethan stepped closer to Danielle.
“My father built this house.”
Danielle’s face hardened, panic turning into anger because that had always been her armor.
“And your father left it to a woman who can’t even walk to the bathroom without help.”
Ethan went still.
Danielle seemed to realize too late what she had said.
But she kept going.
“You were gone, Ethan. Again. I handled the bills. I handled the nurses. I handled your mother asking if you were dead every time the phone rang.”
“That gave you the right to hit her?”
Danielle looked away.
“It was one slap.”
Margaret whispered, “No.”
Ethan turned.
His mother’s eyes stayed on the blanket.
“It wasn’t one.”
May you like
The room changed.
Danielle whispered, “Margaret, don’t.”
