PART 5
“I never stopped looking.”
Mom stood.
“Dad…”
Grandpa opened another folder.
“I found Claire six months ago.”
My heart began pounding.
“Where is she?”
Grandpa looked directly at me.
“She lives three states away.”
Mom whispered her name.
“Claire.”
Then Grandpa said something I never expected.
“She knows about you.”
I froze.
“She knows who I am?”
“She has known for years.”
“Why didn’t she contact me?”
Grandpa looked at Mom.
“Because she didn’t want to interfere.”
I felt anger rising.
“Interfere with what?”
“Your family.”
I stared at him.
“My family?”
I couldn’t stop myself.
“She was afraid to interfere with a family that had been hurting me?”
Mom looked away.
I stood.
“I need air.”
I walked out of the office.
Nobody stopped me.
Outside, the evening had grown cooler.
The white SUV sat beneath the tree.
I walked toward it.
I touched the driver’s door.
The paint was smooth beneath my fingertips.
Two weeks ago, this vehicle had represented everything I thought my family could be.
Now it represented something else.
A pattern.
A cycle.
A warning.
I unlocked the door.
The new-car smell was still there.
I sat behind the steering wheel.
For the first time in two weeks, I was alone inside the SUV that had been bought for me.
I started the engine.
Then I turned it off.
I didn’t want to drive away.
I wanted to understand.
A few minutes later, Grandpa appeared outside.
He leaned on his cane.
“Can I sit with you?”
I nodded.
He opened the passenger door.
After he settled in, neither of us spoke for a while.
Finally, I asked, “Why didn’t you tell me about Claire before?”
“Because I wasn’t sure you were ready.”
“Ready for what?”
“The truth about your mother.”
I stared through the windshield.
“Is she a bad person?”
Grandpa sighed.
“No.”
That answer surprised me.
“She has done bad things.”
He paused.
“But people aren’t always one thing.”
I looked at him.
“She loves you.”
I almost laughed.
“She just doesn’t know how to love without controlling.”
Grandpa nodded.
“That is exactly the problem.”
I looked down at my hands.
“What happened between her and Claire?”
“Your mother took the property.”
“Yes.”
“And then Claire discovered the documents had been altered.”
My head lifted.
“Altered?”
Grandpa nodded.
“She challenged the transfer.”
“What happened?”
“Your mother had already sold it.”
I felt sick.
“To whom?”
“A developer.”
“For how much?”
Grandpa told me.
The amount was large enough that I stared at him.
“And Claire got nothing?”
“Almost nothing.”
“Where did the money go?”
Grandpa looked at me.
“Into the family.”
I understood immediately.
“You used it?”
“No.”
He looked toward the house.
“Your mother did.”
I sat quietly.
Grandpa continued.
“She used part of it to pay debts. Part went toward her education. Some was invested.”
“Did she ever pay Claire back?”
“No.”
I closed my eyes.
“Then why did Claire leave?”
“Because she was tired of being told that forgiveness meant forgetting.”
I felt a lump in my throat.
Grandpa looked at me.
“That’s why I watched what happened with your SUV.”
I looked at him.
“You thought Mom would take it too?”
“I didn’t know.”
“But you suspected.”
“Yes.”
He looked toward the house.
“Your mother has spent years believing that if she can control the resources, she can control the outcome.”
I thought about all the times Mom had told me what I should wear.
What job I should take.
Who I should date.
How much money I should save.
When I should forgive.
How much I should tolerate.
I suddenly understood something.
The SUV hadn’t created this problem.
It had exposed it.
I looked at Grandpa.
“Does Ava know about Claire?”
“No.”
I turned toward the house.
“Then why did you tell me?”
“Because you’re old enough to decide what kind of person you want to become.”
He looked at me.
“You can repeat your mother’s pattern.”
I waited.
“Or you can break it.”
I looked down.
“I don’t want to become like her.”
“You won’t.”
“How do you know?”
“Because you were hurt and you still asked whether she was a bad person.”
I stared at him.
He smiled faintly.
“That’s the difference.”
Before I could answer, the front door opened.
Ava came outside.
She walked toward us slowly.
Her face was swollen from crying.
“Grandpa?”
He looked at her.
“What?”
“Can I talk to Amelia?”
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