“We will see about that,” she said.

She walked closer, until I could smell the mint on her breath.

“You are going to have to make this right, Sarah.”

“I have nothing to make right,” I said.

“We’ll see,” she said.

My phone vibrated again in my pocket.

I didn’t take it out.

I kept my eyes on my mother’s face.

She looked at me with a cold, calculating intensity that made my skin crawl.

“You think you are independent,” she said.

“I know I am,” I said.

“You are nothing without the foundation we laid for you,” she said.

“I laid my own foundation,” I said. “In the dirt.”

“Then you can go back to the dirt,” she whispered.

She turned to my father.

“Arthur, get your coat.”

My father set his empty glass on the mantel.

“Sarah,” he said, his voice laced with a faint, useless regret.

“Don’t, Arthur,” Helen warned.

She turned back to me, her fingers gripping the strap of her handbag.

“There will be a press release tomorrow morning regarding Derek’s fund,” she said.

“And you will be listed as an advisory partner,” she added.