Kendra flinched violently, as though she’d been startled at those words.
“Willard… I didn’t… I know she hates me for taking you away, but I never said those things. I was devastated by Uncle Joe’s death, too. How could she accuse me like this?”
Willard instinctively wrapped his arms around Kendra, patting her back gently in comfort before turning on Daisie with a glare.
“Daisie, have you caused enough trouble?” he snapped. “Look at what you’ve done—Kendra just had surgery, her body’s weak, and she’s still worried about you. Yet you’re acting like a crazy woman throwing accusations!”
“I regret ever letting you through my family’s doors!” he blurted out. “Your dad’s death was his own bad luck. It had nothing to do with Kendra! You bring misfortune to your own parents, and now, you want to drag others down with you?!”
Daisie’s fists clenched so tight her nails bit into her palms. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, every breath catching in her throat.
‘So this is what he really thinks of me,’ she realized.
What else was there to say?
The proof was in the security footage, yet he wouldn’t even bother to look.
He only believed the fragile little angel crying in his arms.