Mom's voice sharpened with urgency. "If you're not making dinner, where do you think you're going?"
My throat was still tight. "Out. I need some air."
I'd barely reached the doorway when Val called after me.
I stopped. Turned around.
His eyes were bright, brimming with excitement.
"Priscilla Perez, you haven't signed yet. Sign first before you go."
I was fifteen years older than Val. I'd raised him with my own two hands. Those years had been brutal. But whenever I saw that bright, innocent smile of his, all the bitterness and exhaustion faded away.
Not anymore. His smile couldn't thaw the cold that had settled in my chest.
"I'm not getting any money," I said. "I don't need to sign. You three signing is enough."
Val blinked those wide, guileless eyes. "That won't work. You still need to write a statement waiving your claim to the demolition money."
He was the most educated one in our family, after all. Always a step ahead of the others.
I didn't move. "Does it matter whether I write it or not?"
Sylvester stood up. "Priscilla, this is all Mom's arrangement. You're not mad at Mom, are you?"