Cynthia looked down.
“Brenda said you were trying to steal from Walter.”
“And you believed her.”
There was no shouting in Elaine’s voice.
The quietness made the rebuke heavier.
Walter placed another folder on the table.
“These are the bank’s original records, the forensic reports, and the civil complaint filed against Brenda.
The institution also referred the forged documents to the district attorney’s financial crimes unit.
I did not tell the family sooner because the investigation was active and because my mother’s medical records were attached.”
Brenda’s confidence briefly returned.
“A complaint is not a conviction.
You cannot prove I intended to steal anything.”
Walter studied her.
“That is what you told your attorney last week.”
She froze.
“How do you know what I told my attorney?”
“I do not.
But you just confirmed that you knew a complaint had been filed before tonight.”
Several guests exchanged looks.
Brenda realized the trap and pressed her lips together.
Hunter stepped toward his father.
“Is Grandma’s care the reason you left?”
Walter looked at him for a long moment.
“It is why I examined the accounts.
It is not the only reason I left.”
He turned toward Brenda.
“I left because when I confronted your mother, she did not ask whether Eleanor had suffered.
She asked how much I knew.
Then she offered to return half the money if I agreed to keep Elaine out of the family permanently.”
Elaine closed her eyes.
Hunter’s face hardened.
“You tried to bargain with his sister’s life.”
Brenda raised both hands.
“Your aunt had always been jealous of our marriage.
I was protecting this family.”
“By stealing from Grandma and framing Elaine?”
“By protecting what your father built.
Elaine would have taken everything eventually.”
Walter’s expression held no anger now, only exhaustion.
“The only person taking everything was you.”
Brenda looked around for support.
Her gaze moved from Cynthia to Lorraine, from Hunter to the cousins, and finally to the guests who had watched her laugh beside the cake.
No one stepped toward her.
She turned on me.
“Are you satisfied now? You wanted to replace me.
You wanted my house, my son, my life.”
I looked at the woman who had called me a gold digger in front of my parents while secretly owning a condominium purchased with an elderly woman’s care money.
“I never wanted your life,” I said.
“I wanted you to stop trying to damage mine.”
She gave a bitter laugh.
“Do not pretend you are innocent.
You married well.”
Hunter moved beside me.
“She married me when I was still paying off graduate-school loans.
She helped cover rent while I changed jobs.
She signed a prenuptial agreement you demanded, even though my attorney told her it was unfair.”
