Chapter 5 - The settlement
Mom wouldn't answer at first.
She kept saying this wasn't the place.
Eventually Margaret said, “Then choose another place.”
We moved to a private reception room behind the church.
Emily's untouched wedding cake waited on a silver stand.
Three perfect tiers.
White sugar roses.
Everything she wanted.
Nobody looked at it.
I faced Mom.
“What did you take?”
“Nothing.”
Dad closed his eyes.
“Linda.”
She glared at him.
“Don't.”
That was enough.
“What did you take from me?”
Dad answered.
“Money.”
I stared.
After the fire, there had been lawsuits.
The manufacturer of an electrical product initially suspected of worsening the blaze settled several claims.
I had been seventeen.
My parents handled everything.
They told me most of the money went toward medical treatment.
“How much?”
Dad swallowed.
“Just over $1.8 million.”
I laughed.
Not because it was funny.
Because sometimes betrayal becomes so large your body chooses the wrong reaction.
“I received less than two hundred thousand.”
Mom immediately defended herself.
“Your medical bills were enormous.”
“How much remained after them?”
Silence.
“Dad.”
“About nine hundred thousand.”
My hands went cold.
“Where is it?”
Emily whispered, “Claire…”
I looked at her.
Her face told me before anyone spoke.
The private college.
The car she received at sixteen.
The year abroad.
The apartment Mom bought so she wouldn't have to live in a dorm.
And perhaps this wedding.
“You used my settlement on Emily.”
Mom stood.
“It was family money.”
“No. It was compensation for my injuries.”
“We were trying to give both daughters a future.”
“One daughter lost her skin, her mobility, and years of her life. So you took the money meant to rebuild that future and gave it to the other one?”
Emily backed away.
“I didn't know.”
Mom looked at her too quickly.
There.
I saw it.
“You knew some of it.”
Emily's silence answered.
Daniel walked toward the door.
She caught his sleeve.
“Please.”
He removed her hand.
“Did my family pay for this wedding?”
Emily looked down.
Margaret answered.
“We contributed seventy-five thousand.”
Daniel stared at his mother.
She nodded.
“And Linda told me her portion came from an investment account established for both daughters.”
I looked at Mom.
“How much of my money is in this wedding?”
She couldn't answer.
Dad could.
“Almost one hundred and twenty thousand.”
Emily's perfect white wedding suddenly looked different.
The roses.
The champagne.
The orchestra.
The dress.
Pieces of my burned body had paid for them.
Then someone knocked on the reception-room door.
A church employee entered carrying a package.
“For Claire Whitmore. Someone left this at the front desk.”
No sender.
Inside was a small charred metal box.
I recognized it.
It had belonged to our house.
May you like
And taped to the lid was a note.
Your parents didn't tell you everything they found inside.
