Kimberly swallowed hard and glanced at Jeffrey, her voice dropping to a low, defensive hiss.
“Then maybe you can explain why your brother is listed as a primary resident and why we found your signature on the authorization papers in the study.”
The air in the room felt like lead as she pulled a crumpled sheet of paper from her own bag and slid it across the table toward me. I recognized the document immediately, but it was incomplete because the crucial second page was missing.
“Jeffrey, did you go through my private files?” I asked, turning to my brother who was now staring at his shoes.
“I just wanted to help out since you’re always so busy with work,” he stammered, unable to meet my gaze.
“Help out? You took my parents’ bedroom and shoved them into a corner!” I shouted, finally losing my composure.
My mother approached us with tears streaming down her face, her voice trembling with a hurt that went deeper than words.
“I told her I wanted to keep the upstairs room for your father’s reading, but she told me a baby’s needs come before an old man’s hobbies.”
Kimberly didn’t even look ashamed as she crossed her arms and glared at my mother.