I calmly opened my leather folder and laid it all on the glass table: the property deeds, the transfer statements, Gwen’s medical reports, the video from the birthday party.

Then I pressed play on my phone.

Before the first clip finished, my mother understood that the truth was only starting to come out.

On the screen, Paige laughed while Gwen, pale and shaking, struggled to carry a heavy tray. Then my mother’s voice rang out, clear.

“If she faints again, just leave her in the yard,” the recording said. “She always puts on a show when guests are over.”

The silence that followed was louder than any scream.