“Mr. Vail,” she said, shifting into charm. “I’m so sorry you had to witness this. My sister has been under enormous strain since her divorce.”
Thomas did not look at Courtney.
He looked at my mother.
“I asked you directly whether Madeline was aware of the foundation event.”
Patricia smiled. “There must have been a misunderstanding.”
“No,” he said. “There was a lie.”
The word landed heavily.
My mother’s smile died.
Thomas turned to me. “Ms. Anderson, Ms. Sloan called. She has the injunction drafted.”
Courtney frowned. “Injunction?”
I kept my gaze on my mother.
“To prevent Patricia and Courtney Anderson from using my name, business accounts, or professional credentials in any fundraising, real estate, or club-related transactions.”
Courtney took a step back.
“You can’t do that.”
Rebecca Sloan entered then, carrying a slim briefcase and wearing the expression of a woman who billed by the hour and enjoyed accuracy.
“Yes,” she said. “She can.”
Courtney spun around.
Rebecca gave her a polite nod. “And frankly, she should have done it sooner.”
My mother’s composure finally cracked.
“Madeline, enough. This is vindictive.”
I laughed once.
“Vindictive was telling my ex-husband’s attorney I had hidden assets.”
Courtney’s eyes widened.
Patricia went very still.
Rebecca glanced at me.
That was not in the folder.
Not officially.
Not yet.
My mother said nothing.
I took one step toward her.
“You thought I didn’t know?”
Patricia’s face became marble.
“I did what was necessary.”
“For whom?”
“For this family.”
“You mean for Courtney.”
Courtney bristled. “Don’t drag me into your failed marriage.”
I turned to her.
“You were already in it.”
Her expression changed.
A flicker.
Tiny, but there.
And suddenly I knew.
I had suspected.
But I had not known.
My ex-husband, Daniel, had become strangely confident during the divorce. He knew things he should not have known. Dates. Account names. Private arguments. Old insecurities. He had smiled across the mediation table like someone had handed him a map of every soft place in me.
I looked at Courtney.
“What did you give him?”
“Nothing.”
Too fast.
My mother said, “Madeline.”
“What did you give Daniel?”
Courtney’s mouth twisted.
“Oh my God. You really do think every bad thing in your life is someone else’s fault.”
Rebecca opened her briefcase. “Ms. Courtney, I recommend you stop speaking.”
Courtney ignored her.