“You let me talk about my wedding, and Nathan’s career, knowing you had all this power.”

“Caroline, sit down,” Nathan whispered, his hands flat on the table.

“No, Nathan!” she yelled, turning her glare on him before snapping it back to me.

“She wanted to humiliate us,” Caroline said, pointing a trembling finger at my chest.

“She waited for the exact moment when everyone was looking at me, just so she could steal my spotlight.”

“I have never cared about your spotlight, Caroline,” I said quietly.

“Then why hide it?” she demanded, stepping toward me.

“Why let Father pay for your apartment years ago? Why let us think you were barely getting by?”

“You never asked,” I said.

“You assumed.”

My father cleared his throat, a heavy, commanding sound that usually ended all arguments in this house.

He did not look at Caroline; his eyes were fixed entirely on me, assessing me as if I were a new piece of real estate.

“That is enough, Caroline,” Father said, though his tone held no real scolding.

He leaned forward, placing his forearms on the table, near his untouched crystal water glass.