Behind him, Chloe folded her arms.
“We’ve been carrying the heavy load every single day while you disappeared into your big-city career, Elena,” she sneered. “So don’t waltz in here once a season pretending to be the devoted daughter.”
I said nothing.
Instead, I looked at the expensive diamond bracelet around Chloe’s wrist.
Then at the absolute confidence in Julian’s eyes.
And smiled.
“You’re completely right, Chloe.”
Her expression softened instantly.
“You two must be exhausted. Why don’t you pour yourselves some wine tonight and let me help Dad get washed up and ready for bed?”
Julian and Chloe exchanged a glance.
Relief.
They thought I had believed everything.
Exactly ten minutes later, I was guiding Dad slowly upstairs.
Once we reached the master bathroom, I reached toward the top button of his winter coat.
Dad reacted as though I had pulled a weapon.
He let out a strangled gasp and stumbled backward until his spine struck the mirror.
Every trace of color disappeared from his face.
“No, Elena. Please!”
His entire body began trembling.
“Don’t take my coat off! If Julian comes up here and sees that you know, he’ll—”
He stopped.
My stomach dropped.
“Dad. Look at me.”
I stepped away from him.
Locked the heavy brass deadbolt.
Then I turned the shower on full blast.
Water thundered against the tiles, drowning out every sound inside the room.
I knelt in front of my father.
And as gently as possible, I began unbuttoning his coat.
One button.
Then another.
Then another.
My 78-year-old father recoiled in terror the moment I reached for the buttons of his heavy winter coat.
