Rosalind followed me out of the dining room, her arms crossed tightly over her chest, her aristocratic posture stiff.

“You think you’re showing quiet dignity, Vivian,” Rosalind said, standing by the bottom stair.

“You always thought you were above this family’s practical obligations.”

I paused beside my bags and turned to face her in the bright glow of the foyer lamps.

“Being left alone in a hospital recovery room after three separate surgical procedures was never comfortable, Rosalind,” I said quietly.

“I earned every dollar of that settlement, and I’m walking out of this house clean.”