Grace’s hands curled into tight fists, but she stayed silent.

I didn’t yell. I didn’t argue. I stepped up to the table, gathered every photograph into a neat stack, and ripped them violently down the middle, the thick paper tearing with a satisfying, sharp sound.

I dropped the shreds into the kitchen trash.

Patricia gasped, clutching her chest as if I’d struck her. “You are a monster!”

“If you ever cross the threshold of my daughter’s room again,” I said, my voice vibrating with an icy, lethal calm, “I will not call the police. I will remove you from this house myself.”

Richard stormed in, drawn by the commotion. “You’re turning the girl into a spoiled princess! Eric is going to hear about this.”