His eyebrows rose. He wasn’t used to hearing that word from me. I had always been the quiet daughter — the peacemaker, the one who apologized and smoothed his moods before they became explosions.

Even after my divorce, when I came back to Denver with almost nothing, I’d taken his criticism as though it were concern. But standing between him and Grandma’s documents, I understood that the money hadn’t changed me.

It had only revealed what I’d already survived.

Chapter 4 — The Folder

Rosa returned with a blue folder. Grandma opened it and drew out a thick stack of documents.

“Six months ago,” she began, “Richard and Linda brought me papers to sign. They said the documents were for tax planning. In reality, they would have given them joint control over nearly all my assets.”

“That is a complete misrepresentation,” Linda snapped.