PART 7
Mom’s face flushed.
“That’s not what I meant.”
“It’s exactly what you said.” You’re twisting my words.”
I reached into my purse.
Pulled out my phone.
And pressed play.
Because after years of managing difficult client meetings, I had developed one habit:
I recorded important financial conversations.
Her voice filled the dining room.
“She can take crackers.”
Then:
“Children survive.”
Then:
“You’re making this dramatic.”
I stopped the recording.
Nobody spoke.
Aunt Linda looked horrified.
Ethan stared at the table.
Mom whispered, “You recorded me?”
“I did.”
“That’s an invasion of privacy!”
“No,” I replied.
“It’s accountability.”
She stood so abruptly her chair nearly tipped over.
“Get out of my house!”
I looked at her for several long seconds.
Then I answered quietly.
“I think you mean my house.”
Her expression changed instantly.
Not anger.
Fear.
Because for the first time, she remembered whose name was actually on the deed.
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