Vanessa stood just inside the glass storm door, watching us through the pane.

“You’re making a huge mistake, Claire,” Mark said, stopping beside the wicker table.

“I’m not signing a document that releases you from your debts and hides your bank statements,” I said.

“There are no hidden debts,” Mark said, loud enough for his voice to carry across the front lawn toward the neighbor’s driveway.

“There are only expenses I ran up keeping this family afloat while you chased your pathetic little design dreams!”

“My grandmother paid the down payment on this house,” I said softly.