Chapter 2

Mom's eyes brimmed with tears as she grabbed my hand.

"Angeline, what's going on? Didn't Robert say he wouldn't tear down the old house until after I died? Why is he suddenly demolishing it now — without even a word?"

My phone buzzed. A million dollars had just landed in my account.

The memo read: Demolition compensation.

My pupils shrank.

That amount was far beyond any normal compensation. And Robert — the man in charge of demolitions in this district — there was no way a sum that high hadn't been personally approved by him.

Sure enough, a few messages from him came through.

Robert: [Did you get the compensation?]

Robert: [I know you resent me. You won't take my money.]

Robert: [Use the money to treat your mother.]

I called him immediately.

"Robert, my mom is fine. Tell them to stop!"

But he only laughed.

"Angeline, if your mom were really fine, you wouldn't be this angry with me. The only thing you can't return is demolition compensation. Take it. Consider the extra as an apology for not telling you about it beforehand."

"Robert!"

I shouted, but he'd already hung up.

Just before the line went dead, I heard him speaking to someone else:

"My wife is stubborn. If necessary, you have my permission to take extreme measures."

"Robert! You can't—"

I tried calling again.

Then my mother screamed.

"Don't tear it down!"

She lunged toward the house, desperate to grab my father's memorial photo.

But the man leading the crew grabbed her and shoved her to the ground.

She was old. Her bones had never been strong. The fall left her unable to move.

"Mom!"

The man didn't even glance at her.

"Forget the old woman. Mr. Gilmer said we can take extreme measures. Every last one of these shacks comes down today!"

"No... Jacob's things are still inside... You can't tear it down!"

My mother stretched out a trembling hand to stop them.

A falling brick nearly struck her.

I threw myself over her, shielding her, my screams swallowed by the dust.

"Stop! This is an illegal demolition! Stop! Cough, cough!"

The moment the main house collapsed, my mother's breath caught.

And then she fainted.

…

Mom's blood pressure had spiked from the shock and fear, but she came through all right. The real damage was to her bones, and the doctor said she'd need a long stretch of bed rest.

I brought her back to my place. I was sitting at her bedside taking care of her when Robert finally came home.

He looked her over, then gave me a helpless little smirk. "Didn't you say your mother was fine? You call this fine?"

I clenched my jaw. "She's like this because you tore her house down for no reason!"

He shook his head like the whole thing amused him. "So a minute ago you were begging me for money, and now you're ready to turn on me over half a million dollars?"

"Robert!" I nearly cracked a tooth grinding it. "I told you, it was your mother who died. My mom only came to help take care of things."

The smile drained off his face. "Angeline, whatever's going on between us, you don't get to use an old woman's death to score points in a fight. Mom has never treated you badly."

I knew there was no getting through to him, so I stopped trying.

He tried to comfort me for a while, and when that didn't work, he left me to cool off on my own.

On his way out, though, something on the table caught his eye. He picked it up out of curiosity, and his face went dark in an instant.

"Angeline!"

He threw the framed photo to the floor. It shattered.

Ignoring the fact that Mom was still asleep beside us, he grabbed me by the throat. "Who gave you permission to make a funeral portrait of my mother? What, you couldn't even wait for her to actually die?"