My father grabbed her arm.
“Eleanor, stop!”
His voice cracked with panic and shame.
Then he turned toward me.
“Maya, please. I did not understand how far this had gone. Your mother told me she was only moving assets to help Julian. I did not know she had used your identity or forged your signature.”
“Then you should have asked questions.”
Tears appeared in his eyes.
I felt a small amount of pity, but no desire to rescue him.
“You spent thirty years ignoring her behavior because confronting her would have been uncomfortable. Your silence made everything possible.”
My thumb hovered over the send button.
“Maya, please,” my mother begged.
Her confident posture collapsed.
Her designer handbag slipped from her hand and fell to the floor.
“We’ll leave. We won’t ask for the money. We’ll take care of Julian’s tax problem ourselves.”
Her fingers trembled as she reached toward my sleeve.
