“You’re right.”
For a second, Ryan looked relieved.
Then Dad continued.
“Until you involve my grandson.”
Ryan’s face changed.
“You’re threatening me?”
“No.”
Dad reached into his pocket and took out his phone.
“I’m documenting you.”
Ryan stared at him.
“What?”
Dad unlocked his phone.
“You’ve taken your wife’s income without her consent. You’ve redirected money to your mother while your household expenses are unpaid. And there’s a four-year-old child in this house who doesn’t have adequate food.”
Ryan’s voice became louder.
“You can’t call the police over this!”
Dad looked at him.
“I can call whoever I need to call.”
“Dad,” I whispered.
He turned toward me.
His expression softened immediately.
“Sweetheart, how long has this been happening?”
I looked down.
“Almost a year.”
Ryan scoffed.
“That’s not true.”
I looked at him.
“It is.”
He stared at me.
For the first time, I saw something behind his anger.
