“You slept with Mom’s sister in Mom’s bed.”
His mouth trembled.
“Your mother and I were broken before that.”
“She was sick.”
“She shut me out.”
“She was dying.”
“She wasn’t supposed to die!”
The shout echoed through the room.
Grandma stepped forward, but I lifted my hand.
Dad covered his face.
“I didn’t want any of this.”
“That’s not the same as being sorry.”
He lowered his hands.
“I didn’t know Valerie treated you like that.”
“You didn’t want to know.”
He stared at me.
That landed.
Good.
“You called me dramatic,” I said. “You told me I was too young to understand. You watched her use me like staff for your wedding. You watched me get hurt, and then you let her keep insulting me.”
“I didn’t hear—”
“You heard enough.”
He looked down.
For once, he didn’t argue.
“Did you lie about Mom’s accident?” I asked.
The blood left his face.
There it was.
The answer before the answer.
“Chloe.”
“Did you?”
His lips parted.
“I didn’t know until after.”
“After what?”
“After the funeral.”
Grandma’s breath sharpened behind me.
Dad swallowed.
“Valerie told me she had been there. She said she’d followed Sarah because Sarah had called her, hysterical. She said Sarah was threatening to destroy all of us.”
“Destroy you how?”