“It was an accident.”
“The crash may have been. Everything afterward wasn’t.”
He clenched his jaw.
“She is your sister.”
I stepped closer.
“And I was your daughter.”
He went silent.
“I was sixteen when you threw me outside with one leg, two crutches, and a trash bag.”
His eyes shifted.
“Do you remember?”
“We were different then.”
“No.”
I shook my head.
“You’re exactly the same.”
Mom arrived behind him.
“We gave you life.”
“And then spent years trying to destroy it.”
I pulled out a second folder.
Inside were the identity-theft records Sarah had preserved.
My mother looked down.
“That was decades ago.”
“You opened accounts under my name.”
“We needed money.”
“For Chloe.”
“You don’t understand how difficult things were.”
“I understand perfectly.”
My voice remained calm.
“I worked nights to afford a prosthetic while you destroyed my credit so Chloe could travel through Europe.”
