“What did I do? You mean when I tried to stop you from stealing every last penny from that account to spend on clothes, parties, and men?”
Her expression hardened. “You tried to cut off my access. You tried to steal it all!”
“I tried to protect my share from you! Not that it worked.” I turned to Mike. “Is this why you’re here? Because she told you some sob story about how I tried to limit her access to the money we inherited from my grandmother?”
His jaw tightened. “She has dates. Amounts. Bank information. I didn’t know what to believe.”
That hurt more than seeing them together.
“Because she was on the account, Mike,” I said, my voice breaking. “Because she had access. And when I tried to stop her from spending it all, she moved all the money and disappeared.”
Mike slowly turned his head toward her.
Claire snapped, “You wanted to control everything, just like you always have! You’re just bitter because I finally fought back.”
And there she was.
The sister I had spent my life arguing with—always twisting the truth to fit whatever story she wanted to tell.
I crossed my arms. “What’s the game here, Claire? It’s been, what, 15 years since you disappeared? Did the money run out?”
Her lips pressed into a thin line.
Mike’s expression changed.
He looked at her differently now.
She noticed.
Her voice sharpened. “What is that look? Don’t tell me you believe her?”
“She’s my wife,” Mike said quietly.
Claire’s eyes filled with tears. She stepped closer to him, placing her hands on his chest.
“You sat with me. You gave me money. You listened to me cry. I thought… Did all of that mean nothing to you?”
“Whoa!” Mike stepped back quickly. “I thought you needed help. That’s it.”
Her face crumpled.
Then she turned on me.
“I suppose this makes you happy? To see me fail. To walk away with everything, just like you always do.”
