died. I retained lifetime management rights.”
Mom stared at me with open hatred.
And suddenly I understood.
The SUV hadn’t created any of this.
**The car had exposed it.**
Mom didn’t resent the vehicle because Ava needed transportation.
She resented what it represented.
She already knew Grandma had protected something from her.
And she’d spent years telling herself it should have belonged to her instead.
Ava suddenly whispered, “You knew.”
Everyone looked at her.
She stared at Mom.
“You knew the farmhouse belonged to Amelia.”
Mom didn’t answer.
Ava’s face changed.
“How long?”
“Ava—”
“How long?”
“Years.”
Ava shook her head.
“And you told me Grandpa favored her. You told me Amelia was trying to take everything.”
Mom’s expression hardened.
“I was protecting your future.”
“No. You used me.”
The realization crossed Ava’s face.
Every complaint.
Every rivalry.
Every whisper from Mom that I thought I was better.
She had nurtured all of it.
Ava dropped into a chair.
Grandpa turned toward me.
“I owe you an apology.”
“You?”
“I suspected your mother had been accessing things she shouldn’t. I didn’t know how far it had gone.”
He looked down at the tracker.
“So when I bought you the SUV, I installed GPS.”
Mom laughed bitterly.
“You set us up.”
“No.”
Grandpa’s gaze remained steady.
“I protected my granddaughter’s property. **You chose what to do next.**”
My eyes burned.
