My mother turned her head slowly as we entered.

Her eyes were red, but her posture was rigid.

“You did this,” she said to me.

“I did my job, Mother,” I said.

She set her teacup down on the glass table with a sharp clink.

“Your job was to protect this family,” she said.

“Ethan is my family,” I said. “And I protected him from marrying into a lie.”

My mother looked at Ethan.

“And you,” she said, her voice shaking. “You allowed her to ruin your future.”

“Cassandra knew, Mother,” Ethan said.

He walked over to the window, looking out at the manicured gardens.

“She helped them hide the documents,” Ethan said. “She was part of it.”

“She was protecting her father,” my mother snapped. “That is what loyal families do.”

“Not when people die,” Ethan said.

The silence returned, heavy and cold.

My mother stood up, her silk blouse rustling.

“The Whitakers are done,” she said, as if pronouncing a sentence. “The country club will cancel their membership by the end of the week.”

“Is that all you care about?” I asked.