Chapter 7 - BETSY FINALLY TALKED
Betsy was my aunt.
She had laughed when Teresa said Amy should “earn the food on her plate.”
For weeks, I wanted nothing to do with her.
Then she asked to speak through my lawyer.
She looked smaller without Teresa beside her.
“I thought your mom owned part of the house.”
I stared.
“What?”
“She told everyone she paid the down payment.”
False.
Amy and I paid it.
“She said the three thousand a month was repayment.”
Also false.
“She said Amy was living off you.”
I looked at Amy beside me.
That was the story Teresa had spread.
A dependent wife.
A generous mother.
A successful son supporting everybody.
Reality was nearly inverted.
Amy had gone back to part-time remote work three months after Frederick was born.
She paid expenses.
Managed appointments.
Cared for our baby.
And, apparently, served Teresa.
Betsy looked ashamed.
“I’m sorry.”
Amy said:
“You laughed.”
Betsy’s eyes filled.
“Yes.”
No excuse.
That mattered more than a long one.
Then Betsy told us something else.
Teresa planned to announce the “Bradley Family Trust” at Frederick’s birthday party.
She wanted relatives there.
Witnesses.
Celebration.
She expected me to come home late, tired, and sign whatever she placed in front of me.
The folder Mason carried contained the documents for that announcement.
Except I came home early.
May you like
And everything collapsed before the cake was even cut.
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