“She was outside the gate with her medication in a grocery bag.”
He said nothing.
That silence said more than any confession could.
I walked into my study. Ethan followed, suddenly nervous. He knew that room held every important paper I had ever signed.
“Dad,” he said, “don’t overreact.”
I opened the safe.
Inside were the deed, the trust papers, our wills, insurance documents, and the business files for the hardware company I had built and once planned to hand to Ethan someday.
Someday.
Not anymore.
I placed the folder on the desk and looked at him.
“This house does not belong to you,” I said. “It belongs to your mother and me. The company does not belong to you either. Neither do our savings, our retirement, or the future you and Ashley apparently already spent.”
Ashley appeared in the doorway, her face now pale.
