“Fixing my mistakes,” she said.

She did not look at him; her eyes went straight to Caroline.

Caroline sat perfectly still, her single hand resting flat on the coffee table beside her phone.

“You must be Caroline,” Rebecca said, her voice trembling slightly.

“I am,” Caroline said, her tone level and observant.

“You look so much like your grandmother,” Rebecca said, offering a small, sad smile.

Thomas stepped between them, his chest puffed out.

“This is family business, Rebecca,” he said. “You have no right to be in this house.”

“I have every right,” she said, her voice growing stronger.

She walked past him and placed the blue folder on the coffee table, right next to Caroline’s phone.

“I brought the proof, Caroline,” Rebecca said.

Thomas reached for the folder, but I stepped forward and placed my hand over his wrist.

“Don’t,” I said.

My son looked down at my hand, surprise flashing in his eyes, before he stepped back with a scoff.

Caroline did not rush.

She used her left hand to undo the elastic band around the folder.