I almost laughed.
Grandma wasn’t even there.
She had stayed home.
She’d told me she didn’t want to see them until she understood exactly what they had done.
Mr. Grant looked at my mother.
“Hazel signed nothing.”
My mother frowned.
“Then why are you here?”
“Because she asked me to protect her.”
Aunt Monica’s face went pale.
She glanced at my father.
“Richard…”
Dad raised a hand.
“Don’t.”
He looked back at Mr. Grant.
“You’ve always hated this family.”
Mr. Grant calmly closed the folder.
“I have never hated your family.”
He paused.
“I simply refused to let you confuse inheritance with ownership.”
Dad’s jaw tightened.
“What exactly are you accusing me of?”
Mr. Grant opened the folder again.
“Financial exploitation.”
The word seemed to make my mother’s shoulders drop.
Aunt Monica immediately shook her head.
“That’s absurd.”
“Is it?”
Mr. Grant pulled out several sheets.
