He tapped the file, and the loading circle spun before the first page opened.

I watched his face change from confusion to a cold, pale stillness.

The air in the kitchen felt heavy, thick with the smell of the neglected potato salad on the counter.

“Dan?” Juliette’s voice was thinner now, losing its sharp edge.

He did not look up at her.

He scrolled down, his thumb moving slowly, his eyes scanning row after row of numbers.

“This is Dad’s pension account,” Dan said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“The one you told me was liquidated to pay off his medical bills.”

Juliette reached out to grab the phone, but Dan pulled it back, out of her reach.

“Dan, that is private family business,” Juliette said, her voice rising.

“It is not the business of outsiders,” she added, glaring at me.

I stayed by the sink, my hands gripping the edge of the damp porcelain.

“I’m not an outsider, Mom,” Dan said, his voice steadying.

“And neither is Annie, considering we’ve been paying your mortgage for the last eighteen months because you said you were broke.”