“He said Elena only cared about winning cases. Chloe said if I called anyone, they would put me somewhere dark and forget me.”
Judge Thorne’s jaw tightened.
The order was extended. Julian and Chloe were barred from the house, from Mom, from her accounts, from any third-party contact. A temporary guardian ad litem was appointed to protect her interests until I could petition formally.
When the hearing ended, Julian turned as deputies came for him.
“Elena.”
I should not have looked.
But blood is a treacherous thing. It calls even when it has poisoned itself.
I turned.
He leaned close enough that only I could hear.
“You think Dad made you the smart one.”
I said nothing.
His smile returned.
“Ask Mom what happened the night he died.”
The deputies pulled him away.
For several seconds, I could not move.
The night Dad died had been sealed in family grief. Heart attack. Sudden. Clean. He had collapsed in his study after dinner, and by the time the ambulance came, he was gone.
I had been in law school. Julian had called me himself, voice breaking, telling me to come home.
Mom had never spoken much about that night. I thought grief had swallowed the details.
Now Julian had placed a key in my hand and walked away laughing.
I hated him for it.
And I hated myself because I wanted to use it.
That evening, I brought Mom back to the house.
Not permanently. Not yet.
But she wanted to see it without them.
The curtains were open for the first time in months. Late sunlight spilled across the floorboards. Dust floated golden in the air. The house looked wounded, but alive.
Mom stood in the living room, one hand on my arm.
“They took your father’s chair,” she said.
“I’ll get it back.”
She shook her head.
“No. I don’t want it anymore.”
We moved slowly through the rooms. In the kitchen, she touched the chipped blue mug she had used every morning for thirty years. In the hallway, she paused before the wall where family portraits used to hang.
“I thought you hated me,” she said.
I turned.
“What?”
“Julian said you were angry I gave him power of attorney. He said you told him I was his problem now.”
A coldness passed through me.
“I never said that.”
“I know that now.”
