The warmth drained from his face, replaced by sudden shock. “Claire, I’ve been sending it ever since the day you got married. Are you telling me you never got a single payment?”
My chest tightened. “Not once.”
Before he could respond, the door burst open. My husband, Mark, and my mother-in-law, Vivian, walked in loaded down with shiny shopping bags stamped with luxury logos—brands I could barely afford to look at. They claimed they had just been “running a few errands.” Their voices were bright and carefree… until they noticed my grandfather sitting beside my bed.
Vivian stopped short. The bags shifted in her arms. Mark’s grin disappeared instantly as his gaze flicked between me, my grandfather, and the tension written across my face.
My grandfather broke the silence with a voice so calm it was terrifying. “Mark… Vivian… I’d like to ask you something.” His eyes never left them. “Where, exactly, has the money I’ve been sending my granddaughter been going?”
Mark swallowed. Vivian blinked rapidly, her lips pressing together as if scrambling for a story. The air in the room felt thick and heavy.
I hugged my newborn a little closer, my hands shaking uncontrollably.
“Money?” Mark finally stammered, his voice unsteady. “What—what money?”
