“Sit down, Audrey,” Miles snapped, his voice cracking under the pressure of the public humiliation. The Bishop rose from his seat near the altar, looking like a man who was deeply reconsidering his career path.
“Perhaps we should take a moment to collect ourselves in the parish hall,” the Bishop suggested gently. “No, we are finishing this right here,” I said, refusing to move from the podium.
I looked back at the paper and read the final paragraph my father had added just days before his heart stopped. “To Audrey Vance, I leave a clarification: every luxury Miles has ever provided for you was paid for with my family’s money, not his own modest salary.”
Audrey’s face went pale, and she looked at Miles as if she were seeing him for the very first time. “Is that true?” she hissed, her voice carrying in the quiet sanctuary.
Mr. Sterling stepped forward and cleared his throat. “As the executor, I can confirm that Miles’s personal accounts are nearly empty, and he has been living off a generous allowance from the Parker estate for years.”