She pulled out her phone and called the real estate agent, deliberately putting it on speaker.
"Hi, the house my mother asked you to sell? Yeah, we're taking it off the market. I'm getting a divorce, and I'll be living there."
But then her expression shifted to one of disbelief.
"What? She gave the keys to Boyce Todd?"
Raymond, never missing a chance to stir the pot, chuckled.
"So it's all about the house, huh?
"No wonder you've been playing the doting son-in-law. Now that the house is yours, your true colors come out."
Yedda's anger flared, her face turning red. She pointed a trembling finger at me.
"Listen to me, Boyce. You can forget your little schemes.
"My mom may have cared for you, but she wasn't your real mom. As long as I'm alive, nothing of hers will ever belong to you."
I didn't have the energy to argue anymore.
Just then, the photographer, Jack, emerged from the studio.
He handed me a large frame wrapped in black cloth.
"This is the one Ms. Adelaide Trevelyan loved the most. It's ready."
I nodded gratefully, holding the frame close to my chest.
"Are you out of your mind? My mom wanted a family portrait.
"What is this, you and her alone? Who do you think you are?