Her words hit me like a blow, and the grief I’d been holding back erupted. I spun around, my voice shaking with fury.
“Why would you say that to him? You knew he had heart disease! Why are you so cruel? You already have everything—why couldn’t you just leave us alone? Why couldn’t you leave him alone?”
Before I could say more, Gilbert stepped between us, shielding her. His voice was cold and cutting.
“Amelia, enough. Your father is gone. Stop taking your anger out on others. If you want to blame someone, blame his bad luck—not us.”
I froze, his words slicing through me like a blade. Bad luck? He had treated my father like a son. My father had given him everything, and this was how he repaid him—with cruelty and indifference.
Tears burned my eyes as I glared at him. “Gilbert, are you even human? How dare you speak of my father that way? Without him, you’d be nothing.”
Irene stepped forward, her expression painted with mock concern. She reached for my hand. “Amelia, don’t be angry with Gilbert. This is all my fault. Please don’t take it out on him.”