The words hit hard. Helena’s sisters exchanged quick looks. One of the girls let go of a balloon ribbon, and the gold number six drifted sideways and bumped the SUV. Daniel tried to laugh, but it came out dry and hollow. Then Helena snapped, because women like her always do the moment they realize they are no longer directing the scene.
“Claire, stop this nonsense right now,” she barked. “You do not humiliate family in public over a misunderstanding.”
A misunderstanding. That almost made me smile. A misunderstanding was stepping on someone’s shoes at church. It was not copying a married woman’s house keys, sneaking into her office, and planning to pressure her into signing away property in front of a birthday cake.
A misunderstanding did not involve a notary’s card in my husband’s jacket or a recorded conversation picked up by the extra camera I installed after he started acting strange around my files. Greed liked to dress itself up as tradition, but that did not make it innocent.