“You called Natalie too.”
“Yes.”
“And she came running.”
Dad glanced at me.
“I asked her to.”
Vanessa laughed once through her tears.
It was a bitter, broken sound.
“She always got to be the good one.”
“No,” Dad said. “She was the one who came when I needed her.”
Vanessa looked at me.
“I hated you for that.”
“I know.”
“You always made him choose.”
“I never asked him to choose.”
“You didn’t have to.”
The room went quiet.
I wanted to answer her with every angry thing I had carried for years. I wanted to tell her about the birthdays she missed, the calls she ignored, the way she mocked me for moving back to town when Dad’s health worsened.
Instead, I said, “You could have come too.”
Her face crumpled.
That was the truth neither of us could escape.
Detective Alvarez led Grant toward the door.
He stopped beside Vanessa.
“You’re coming with me,” he said.
She stared at him.
“Why?”
“Because you’re my wife.”
“You told me the will was real.”
“It was.”
“You told me Dad had signed everything.”
“He had.”
