Chapter 12 - The Graveyard Threat
Richard did not wait until the burial was complete to launch his counter-offensive. That was his first critical mistake of the day.
He waited impatiently until the heavy casket was lowered into the earth. He waited until Vanessa, performing for the lingering crowd, threw a single white rose onto the polished wood with dramatically shaking fingers. He waited until Pastor Helen murmured the final words of dust to dust.
Then, as the crowd began to disperse toward their cars, Richard stepped closely beside me, his shoulder brushing mine.
“Give me the key, Emily,” he whispered, his voice a lethal, vibrating threat.
I kept my eyes fixed on the dirt falling onto my mother’s casket. “No.”
“You are out of your depth, little girl. You have absolutely no idea what you are holding in your hand.”
“I’m starting to get a pretty clear picture, Richard.”
His voice hardened into dark steel. “Emily, I tolerated your little theatrical display in the chapel because grief makes people irrational. But do not confuse this cheap theater with actual power.”
I finally turned to look at him, meeting his dark, furious eyes.
“You mean Vanessa’s physical assault on me? Or Mom’s legally binding will?”
His nostrils flared. “You think that ridiculous piece of paper holds any water? I have lawyers on retainer who will bury you in litigation for the next ten years. I will bleed you dry until you are begging to give me that house.”
“You can certainly try,” I replied calmly.
“I will,” he promised.
Vanessa appeared on my other side, flanking me. Her mascara had run down her cheeks in dark, jagged lines, but somehow, she still looked far more furiously angry than actually sad.
“You completely destroyed her funeral,” Vanessa hissed.
I looked at my sister, feeling a profound sense of exhaustion. “You literally slapped me beside her dead body, Vanessa.”
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“You provoked me by existing!” she spat back.
There it was. Honest, at long last.
