“Mine,” I said.

“My bedroom furniture!” “Mine.” Every object she named, I claimed, calmly, because every object was in fact mine, purchased with my money, left behind precisely so that this moment could happen — so that she could discover, one item at a time, that the castle she had lounged in and lorded over had never contained a single thing that belonged to her.

Ethan took a step toward me, and his voice dropped into something meant to be intimidating.

“Natalie, don’t play games with me.” And Andrew was out of the car at once, folder in hand, positioning himself calmly between us.