“I didn’t make Trevor forge your name,” I said.

“You knew what was at stake!” Kelsey cried. “You knew Dad was struggling! You could have saved us all by just signing the deed over to the family!”

“It was never about the family, Kelsey,” I said. “It was about him. And you went along with it because you wanted what wasn’t yours.”

“I hate you,” she said, her voice dropping to a harsh whisper. “I will never forgive you for this.”

“I know,” I said.

The silence between us was heavy, filled only by the idling engine and the storm.

The sisterly bond we had spent years pretending to keep was gone.

There was no going back from this road.

Suddenly, a loud beep echoed from inside the SUV.

The dashboard console was glowing brightly through the wet window.

A phone was resting in the cup holder, its screen flashing repeatedly in the dark interior.

Kelsey turned and looked through the glass.

The caller ID displayed the word “Dad.”

Underneath it, a text message preview popped up, lighting up the front seat with a pale blue glow.