“Entertainment?” I offered. “A group chat highlight? A family bonding moment?”
She opened her mouth, but no sound came.
Simon’s gaze didn’t leave my parents. “Sign,” he said.
I watched my family crumble in stages.
First came anger—the instinctive flare of entitlement that said they didn’t believe they should face consequences.
Then fear—because the paperwork in front of them was not a bluff.
Then the slow, dawning realization that they were trapped by their own greed.
My father grabbed a pen, his knuckles white. He held it like he was about to stab someone with it. His eyes snapped up to mine.
“You think you’re punishing us?” he growled. “You’re destroying this family.”
I didn’t flinch.
“You destroyed it,” I said, “the moment money mattered more than your daughter.”
Brooke surged forward, her voice cracking with desperation. “Lyss, please,” she said, suddenly dropping the sarcasm like it had never existed. “If Mom and Dad lose control of the trust, I lose my stipend. My condo, my car… I can’t afford that.”
Ah.
There it was.
The truth, finally spoken out loud.
Not love. Not loyalty.
Dependence.
Simon crossed his arms. “You should all know,” he said, “Alyssa is now the sole trustee. Any discretionary payouts will be her decision alone.”
The effect was immediate.
My mother’s face tightened like she’d been slapped. My father’s expression hardened into something desperate and calculating. Brooke looked like the floor had opened beneath her.
My mother lunged toward me and grabbed my wrist with trembling fingers. Her grip was surprisingly strong, fueled by panic.
