He ended the call and glanced toward the kitchen.
Then he saw the laptop.
He saw the documents spread across the table, the envelopes on the screen, and his mother’s hand resting over Claire’s.
For a moment, his face went completely blank.
“What are you doing?”
Neither woman answered.
He walked toward them.
“Claire, close that.”
She did not move.
“I said close it.”
Eleanor slowly straightened in her chair.
“No.”
Daniel stared at her.
It was a small word, spoken without force. But it was the first time in months that his mother had refused him without immediately trying to soften the refusal.
“Mom, you’re tired. You don’t understand what you’re looking at.”
“I understand enough.”
“You’ve been going through private documents without knowing what they mean.”
“I understand that you took money from my account.”
Daniel’s gaze flickered toward the statements.
“I moved money to cover expenses. I’ve explained this.”
“You moved my money into your company.”
“Because the company was handling the repairs.”
“You never repaired the roof,” Eleanor said. “You never replaced the boiler. You never finished the work on the upstairs bathroom.”
Daniel’s jaw tightened.
“I have spent years handling things you don’t want to deal with.”
“And I thanked you.”
“You should be thanking me now.”
The words hung in the air.
Claire slowly closed the folder containing the letters, but she left the financial statements open.
“You told me Mom didn’t want me here,” she said.
