His eyes stopped on the tin box.
“I remember that,” he said.
“So do I.”
He sat at the table. For a while, neither of us spoke.
Finally he said, “Your mother hid the gifts.”
“Yes.”
“I asked her about them.”
“And?”
His jaw tightened.
“She said Rose was trying to turn you against her.”
I almost laughed.
“She did that herself.”
Dad nodded.
Then he took an envelope from his coat pocket and slid it across the table.
“What’s this?”
“Bank statements. Old emails. Some notes from when the business failed.” He swallowed. “Proof.”
I did not touch it.
“Why are you giving me this now?”
“Because Brent is saying you manipulated me into signing things. He’s saying you took advantage when I was under stress.”
My chest went cold.
Of course he was.
A drowning man will grab even the hand that fed him and try to pull it under.
