Gloria looked at her son as if she didn’t recognize him.

The silence returned, heavier this time.

The reality of their situation was settling into the room like dust.

“Jocelyn,” Graham said, his voice shaking. “Please. We can work this out. We are married. What about Ruby and Hazel? What will people say if their father goes to jail?”

“You should have thought about your daughters before you forged the signatures, Graham,” I said.

“They are Ralstons,” Gloria pleaded, her voice suddenly losing its sharp edge, replaced by a desperate, thin tone. “Think of the family name, Jocelyn. We are one of the founding families of this district.”

“You made sure my daughters felt like outsiders in their own family, Gloria,” I said. “You told them they weren’t worth the Ralston name because they weren’t boys.”

Gloria’s mouth opened, but no words came out.

“Now,” I said, standing up and smoothing my skirt. “I have a business to run.”

“Jocelyn, wait,” Graham said, scrambling to his feet. “Tomorrow night. The Dallas Real Estate Alliance Gala. I’m supposed to receive the Developer of the Year nomination.”