“But only one person in this room keeps pretending that wanting the money somehow proves someone else couldn’t have loved him.”
Caroline’s eyes narrowed.
Elena stepped closer.
“You called me a gold digger before he was even buried.”
Caroline opened her mouth.
“No.”
Elena pointed at her.
“You wanted honesty.”
Her voice began to rise again.
“Here it is.”
Caroline stared.
“You weren’t angry that I might have married him for money.”
Elena’s voice became louder.
“You were angry because you thought the money was already yours.”
Caroline screamed:
“IT WAS OUR FAMILY’S!”
Elena screamed back:
“I WAS HIS FAMILY!”
Henry shouted:
“YOU WERE HIS WIFE!”
Elena spun toward him.
“YES!”
Henry shouted:
“THAT IS NOT THE SAME THING!”
Elena went still.
Then asked:
“To whom?”
Henry said nothing.
Elena stepped closer.
“To you?”
Silence.
“Or to him?”
Henry’s jaw tightened.
Elena’s voice dropped.
“You asked me earlier if a few tears make me family.”
Henry stared.
Elena wiped her cheek.
“No.”
She looked at all three siblings.
“They don’t.”
Then she glanced toward the will in Simon’s hands.
“But apparently your father believed a signature could tell you whom he had chosen to trust with what remained.”
Henry’s face twisted.
“You think that means he chose you over us?”
Elena looked at him.
“No.”
A pause.
“I think he stopped waiting for you to choose him.”
Nobody answered.
Outside, rain moved across the windows.
For the first time that morning, no one was shouting.
And somehow the silence was worse.
