The sentence broke apart before I could finish it.
And suddenly, one horrible thought hit me hard enough to make my stomach twist.
She lied.
Mrs. Rhode lied to me.
The old humiliation I spent my entire life learning to survive rushed back all at once—that awful feeling of realizing everyone else understood the truth before you did.
I stood so quickly the chair scraped harshly against the floor.
Diane crossed her legs slowly, clearly enjoying herself now.
“You really believed she’d leave her estate to a waiter?” she asked softly.
The lawyer cleared his throat awkwardly, but he did not stop her.
That hurt almost worse.
I walked out before either of them could see tears building in my eyes.
Outside, cold rain soaked through my jacket almost immediately.
I barely noticed.
By the time I reached my tiny rental house three streets over, my chest hurt so badly it felt difficult to breathe. I went inside, shut the door, and collapsed onto the bed without removing my boots.
At first, I felt anger.
Then embarrassment.
