The others? Laughing. Chattering. Planning.
"I'm getting that bag," Abner's sister announced. "The one I've had my eye on forever."
"After my phone," her brother added, "I'm upgrading my gaming setup."
My mother-in-law beamed. "Sure, sure. Whatever you want!"
Then the nurse appeared, clipboard in hand.
"Family of Genevieve James? We need a hundred-thousand-dollar deposit."
I turned to Abner.
"The ticket is half mine. Transfer me a hundred thousand."
He froze.
In his mother's grand plan, I'd never existed at all.
She heard me and scowled. "Your mother's illness is your family's problem. Why should my son pay for it?"
I looked at her. No anger left. Just cold, dead certainty.
"So you're going back on your word? You just said the ticket was marital property. That means I'm owed five hundred thousand."
She planted her hands on her hips, smirking.
"That ticket was my son's gift to me. I've already distributed it."
Of course.
Exactly the face I'd expected to see.
"Is that what you think too?"
He stared at the floor. Silent.
"Put yourself in my place," I said quietly. "If it were your mother on that operating table—what would you do?"
Still nothing. His head stayed bowed.