“Enough.”
“That’s not a number.”
“Since when do we discuss family support like an invoice?”
“Since the invoice is two million dollars,” Ethan shot back. “Brandon doesn’t make enough to finance a golf cart, much less the Plaza.”
Brandon rolled his eyes. “Jesus, Ethan. It’s handled.”
“How?”
Margaret’s gaze flicked to Harold, then Brandon, then finally to me.
I felt it before I understood it. Like the first cold drop before an avalanche.
“The major contracts,” Margaret said evenly, “are under Coraline’s name.”
For a second, the words made no sense. They floated above the table, disconnected from reality, like someone had accidentally spoken in another language.I set down my fork.
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