PART 3
PART 4
The pounding on the front door woke me before my alarm did.
For a moment, I lay there staring at the ceiling, trying to remember where I was.
Then I heard it again.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
Elsie stirred beside me in her crib.
My heart sank.
I looked at the clock.
6:15 a.m.
Nobody who respected another person’s home showed up at six in the morning.
I quietly got out of bed and walked toward the hallway.
Grant was already awake.
He stood near the kitchen counter, staring at his phone.
His face was pale.
“Who is it?” I whispered.
He looked at me.
“Mom.”
Of course.
I almost expected it.
“She’s outside?”
He nodded.
Before either of us could say anything, Diane’s voice came through the door.
“Grant! Open this door right now!”
Elsie started crying.
I closed my eyes for a second.
The same woman who claimed she cared about family was standing outside screaming loud enough to wake her own granddaughter.
Grant walked toward the door.
I grabbed his arm.
“Before you open it, remember one thing.”
“What?”
“Yesterday, you believed her without asking me a single question.”
He looked down.
“I know.”
“No, you don’t.”
I stepped closer.
“You’re about to feel sorry for her because she’s going to make herself the victim. Don’t forget what happened.”
Grant nodded slowly.
Then he opened the door.
Diane walked in like she owned the place.
She was wearing expensive sunglasses, a designer coat, and an angry expression.
Not embarrassed.
Not apologetic.
Angry.
“There you are.”
Her eyes immediately found me.
“You.”
I raised an eyebrow.
“Good morning to you too.”
“Don’t act innocent.”
Grant closed the door behind her.
“Mom, what’s going on?”
“What’s going on?” she repeated.
She laughed.
“Your wife secretly opened a new account, moved money away, and made me look like a thief.”
Grant stared at her.
“Mom.”
“What?”
“The bank found forty thousand dollars in transactions.”
Diane’s face changed.
Only for a second.
But I saw it.
Then she recovered.
“That money was for the family.”
I almost smiled.
“For the family?”
“Yes.”
“Which family?” I asked.
She looked at me.
“Excuse me?”
“The family that needed diapers and groceries? Or the family that needed designer handbags and luxury vacations?”
Her eyes narrowed.
“You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“No?”
I pulled out my phone.
“I saved every transaction.”
Grant looked at me.
“You did?”
“Yes.”
Diane’s expression shifted.
I continued.
“Because every time I asked questions, everyone told me I was overreacting. So I stopped arguing and started documenting.”
I opened the banking records.
“The $3,800 at the jewelry store.”
Diane crossed her arms.
“That was a gift.”
“For who?”
Silence.
“The $2,400 spa package.”
“That was stress relief.”
“The $5,000 hotel payment.”
“That was a family emergency.”
I looked at Grant.
“Did you know about this family emergency?”
He slowly shook his head.
“No.”
Diane looked uncomfortable.
“It wasn’t your concern.”
Grant stared at her.
“Mom, it was our money.”
Her expression hardened.
“After everything I’ve done for you?”
There it was again.
The guilt.
The manipulation.
The same words she had used for years.
But this time, Grant didn’t immediately surrender.
“What exactly have you done, Mom?”
The question shocked her.
“What?”
“You keep saying that. What have you done?”
Diane looked offended.
“I raised you.”
“Yes.”
“And I supported you.”
“Yes.”
“I helped you when you married Nora.”
I almost laughed.
Because that was the biggest lie.
Diane had never helped us.
She had tolerated me.
“You mean when you told me I was lucky your son chose me?” I asked.
Grant looked at me.
“What?”
I looked at him.
“You never told him?”
Diane’s face changed.
“Nora, don’t start.”
“No. He should know.”
I turned to Grant.
“Your mother told me during our engagement dinner that I wasn’t the type of woman she imagined for you.”
Grant looked shocked.
“Mom?”
“She was emotional.”
