Evan was my husband’s younger brother, a thirty-two-year-old gambler who treated every debt like a short-term inconvenience. I looked at Daniel, still standing next to me in his tuxedo, breathing hard with anger.
“That money belongs to both my husband and me,” I said. “It is not your family’s emergency fund.”
Daniel’s palm h:it my cheek.
A gasp swept through the room. My father started moving forward, but I raised one finger and stopped him. Daniel misunderstood the gesture as submission.
“You embarrassed my mother,” he hissed. “Apologize.”
My cheek stung. My veil had loosened from my hair. Somewhere near the front table, a child started to cry.
Vivian leaned in close enough for her perfume to reach me. “You married into this family, Claire. Everything you brought here belongs to us now.”
That was exactly the sentence I had been waiting to hear.
