My mother froze, her eyes widening. “What?”

“I said no,” I repeated, my voice growing stronger. “I am not taking the blame for Brandon. I am not going to jail for him.”

“Ava, please,” my mother begged, dropping to her knees on the cold marble floor. “He is your brother. I am begging you on my knees.”

“He is a thief,” I said, looking down at her. “And you helped him.”

My father’s expression shifted from cold detachment to pure, burning anger.

He stepped around my mother, his eyes narrowing as he glared at me.

“You think you’re being clever, Ava?” he whispered, his voice dangerously quiet. “You think you can just walk away from this family and take everything?”

“I’m taking what grandmother left me,” I said, holding up the envelope.

“You won’t have a cent to your name by tomorrow morning,” he said.

“My personal savings account has nothing to do with Brandon’s fraud,” I countered, though a cold dread began to pool in my stomach.

My father smiled, a thin, cruel line on his face.

He didn’t say another word.