Chapter 4 - The Terms of Engagement
Richard stepped past his wife, his expression hardening into the stern, patriarchal mask he had used to control our household for decades. He assumed that if he applied enough pressure, I would eventually fold, just as I had when I was a child.
“Let’s stop this childish dramatics, Hannah,” Richard said, his tone flat and businesslike. “You’re grieving, and the court settlement has clearly scrambled your judgment. But a young woman alone with nearly nineteen million dollars is a target. Your mother and I are moving into the guest room starting tonight to help you manage the estate, and we’ll be handling the distribution for the safety foundation.”
I stared at my father, marveling at the sheer, breathtaking audacity of the man.
“You want to move in,” I said slowly, testing the words on my tongue.
“It’s the only responsible solution,” Clara chimed in, her voice instantly shifting back to honeyed manipulation. “We’ll help you pack up Jonathan and the kids' old things, too. It’s not healthy for you to be surrounded by all this grief, darling. A fresh start will be good for all of us. We can even use a portion of the settlement to upgrade Sabrina’s wedding venue—it’s what Samuel and Charlotte would have wanted, bless their little hearts.”
The moment she invoked my children’s names to fund my sister’s wedding, something inside my chest snapped, cleanly and permanently.
“Get out,” I said.
Richard frowned. “Hannah—”
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“I said, get out of my house.” My voice didn't shake. It was low, steady, and sharp enough to draw blood. “You are trespassing on private property. If you aren't off my porch in thirty seconds, I am calling the local sheriff, and I will personally stream your forcible removal live to every news outlet that just published my settlement.”
Sabrina’s jaw dropped. “You wouldn't dare.”
