Gretchen’s face twisted with pure outrage as she grabbed her designer handbag off the island.

“Fine, if that’s how you treat family who offers to help you at your lowest point, then I wash my hands of this whole disaster,” Gretchen snapped bitterly.

She stalked toward the front entry and stopped in the doorway to look back at her son with a demanding scowl.

“Peter, are you honestly going to stand there like a spineless coward and let this woman decide who’s allowed in your home?” Gretchen challenged.

Peter looked at his mother, finally seeing the poisonous manipulation that had nearly wrecked his whole life, and slowly shook his head.