There it was.
Not regret.
Not guilt.
Entitlement.
“I’m your only son,” he continued. “Who else is going to get it?”
My chest tightened.
He truly believed that motherhood meant my life was simply the waiting room for his inheritance.
“You couldn’t wait for me to die?” I asked.
The color left his face.
“That’s not what I meant.”
“It’s exactly what you meant.”
Sarah whispered, “Greg… what else did you do?”
He refused to look at her.
That frightened me more than anything else.
Daniel reached into the folder.
“There’s more.”
He handed me another document.
An appraisal.
For my house.
Dated six weeks earlier.
I stared at it.
I had never requested an appraisal.
Sarah read over my shoulder.
“Oh my God.”
Greg moved toward me.
“Mom, let me explain.”
Daniel placed another paper on the counter.
An application discussing a home equity loan.
