“That’s enough.”
“No,” I said. “It isn’t.”
He stared at me.
I had spent eighteen years choosing my words carefully whenever he became angry. I had learned how to soften my questions, lower my voice, and avoid saying anything that might turn an ordinary disagreement into a fight.
But that afternoon, something had changed.
I was no longer trying to preserve the comfort of a man who had made a fool of me.
“You don’t get to silence me because the truth is uncomfortable.”
He slowly sat down.
Rachel looked increasingly irritated.
“Are we going to discuss the house or not?”
“Yes,” Margaret replied. “And while we’re discussing it, perhaps we should discuss why you were so certain you would be entitled to it.”
Rachel’s face went still.
“What does that mean?”
Margaret opened another folder.
“Debra asked me to help organize the information she had collected about her finances and property. During that process, we came across some public information about your previous employment.”
