That night, while I lay on the floor of our dining room, the messages between Amber and Bruno read as follows.

Amber: She’s refusing to hand over her grandmother’s inheritance.

Bruno: Keep pushing her.

We need that money to clear the vendor audit before end of quarter.

And then, minutes later:

Amber: Indigo had to hit her.

Bruno: Well, then maybe she’ll finally learn her place.

I read those messages, and I had to set the laptop down, because I was afraid I would be physically sick.