Moments later, my doorbell camera alerted me. Charlotte stood outside in designer sunglasses and a camel coat, immaculate as ever—except her hands trembled.
“Lena! Open the door!” she demanded.
I stayed inside and activated the intercom. “You posted ‘no burdens’ while I was in surgery,” I said evenly. “What do you want?”
“I want you to stop this. The mortgage company called. The club revoked membership. My board is holding an emergency meeting—investors think I misrepresented finances.”
“You did,” I replied calmly. “You let them believe you carried a family that never carried me.”
She faltered. “You can’t destroy me over a concert.”
“It wasn’t the concert,” I said. “It was the pattern. Dad telling me to ‘figure it out’ while I had toddlers and an infection spreading.”
“I didn’t know it was that serious.”
“You chose not to.”
My parents’ SUV pulled into the driveway. Diane rushed out first, frantic. Richard followed, angry in the way he became when he lost control.
“Lena, please,” Diane pleaded at the door. “We didn’t realize.”
“You always exaggerate,” Richard snapped. “Open this door. This is extortion.”
“I’m not demanding payment,” I replied. “I’m simply no longer providing it.”