I laughed—a sound stripped of warmth. “Alright then. Since Richard has decided I’m guilty, I’ll accept the blame.”
“Not just that one leg—I’ve already reserved Lucas’s other leg too.”
“Make sure he gets used to the wheelchair early.”
“You—!” Richard Hart’s polite facade finally cracked, his voice rising with anger. “Ethan! Must you really make things this ugly?”
“We’ve been family friends for years, and you’d destroy it all for an outsider?”
“Yes.”
My answer was crisp and firm.
“Uncle Hart,” I said coldly, “since your family has chosen your side, I’ll respect your choice.”
“From now on, all pretenses are gone.”
Two years ago, during a Cole family banquet, Richard had personally invited my father and me for a private toast. After a few flattering remarks, he brought up a long-forgotten verbal promise—an engagement arranged between my late grandfather and Mr. Hart.
At the time, the Hart family was in decline, and the matter had been quietly set aside.
That night, Richard spoke with careful humility, emphasizing the old bond between our families.
“Mr. Cole, I know it’s bold of me to bring this up now,” he said, his tone deferential.