Rebecca rested a hand lightly on his arm, the same quiet gesture she’d used since she was a teenager whenever she wanted to take control without seeming to.

“Dad,” she said evenly, “do you know what lakefront property taxes cost? Insurance? Maintenance? Dock repairs? You’ll burn through Eleanor’s money in no time.

This way, we keep Birchwood in the family.”

“That’s my concern.”

“It becomes ours anyway, if you lose it and end up asking us for help again.”

There it was. The truth beneath the smiles. Trent stared down at the gravel. Madison looked uncomfortable now, though I couldn’t tell whether she was embarrassed for me or for her mother.