Chapter 9 - The Table Nobody Could LeaveThat night Dad asked us both to dinner at his house. Grandma didn't want to go. Neither did I. Naomi advised us not to discuss legal strategy with Vanessa, but Dad said he had something he needed to say in person.
Vanessa had lit candles and set out roast chicken. She wore a cream sweater and an expression of concerned patience, as though she hadn't threatened to take Grandma's home.
"I want us to heal," she announced. "Hannah, apologize for humiliating me at church."
"I haven't been to church since you pushed the tree."
"Stories travel."
Dad laid his phone on the table. "I saw Ava's video."
Vanessa's knife stopped in midair. "She's a teenager. She edited it."
"She didn't," he said. "And I lied by omission when I let you blame Mom. I'm sorry, Hannah. I'm sorry, Mom."
The room stayed quiet. It was his first apology in years.
Vanessa rose. "So we're taking the word of a child over your wife?"
"We're taking the word of the recording," he answered.
"Fine. I broke the stupid tree. You were all acting like Leah was still sitting at this table. I wanted one Christmas that belonged to me."
I held my fork so tightly my knuckles hurt. "You could have asked for that without destroying what belonged to her."
Vanessa looked at Dad. "Tell her what you did last June. Tell your darling daughter why you needed the sale."
He swallowed. "I used the house as collateral on a personal line of credit. I didn't tell anybody because I thought my business would recover."
"You see?" Vanessa said triumphantly. "I'm the only one who knows how to fix the mess."
Dad pushed his plate away. "That doesn't give you the right to forge signatures."
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Vanessa stared at him a long time. Then she picked up her coat. "If I'm the villain now, you should ask your mother where she kept the original trust. Because I already know the copy in Naomi's office is missing a page."
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