“You didn’t know that,” I said.
Patricia cut in before he could answer. “Let’s not dramatize this. I have done more for this little family than anyone else. I opened my home to you. I buy groceries. I watch the baby when I can. The least I expect is respect.”
Dad took one measured step forward. “Respect is not making my daughter ask permission to leave the house.”
Patricia’s face hardened. “No one is forcing Lauren to stay.”
The room went still.
She had said the quiet part out loud.
Derek looked uncomfortable, but not surprised. That hurt more than I expected.
Dad nodded once, like something had just been confirmed. “Good,” he said. “Because she’s leaving.”
Patricia laughed, short and incredulous. “With what money?”
Every inch of humiliation in that question landed exactly where she intended. It was aimed at me, but Dad answered it.
“Mine,” he said.
She blinked.