“You told Mom that Auntie was the love of your life,” my daughter continued, looking directly at her father. “But Auntie wrote in this book that she only wanted you because she was jealous of Mom’s life. She wrote right here, on July 14th: ‘I don’t even care about him that much. I just want to prove that I can take everything away from her. I want her house, her husband, and her perfect life.’”
The hall erupted into a wave of shocked muttering.
My sister turned pale as marble. “That—that was years ago! I was angry! That’s a lie!” she shrieked, looking frantically around the room at her friends and in-laws.
“And there’s more,” my daughter said calmly, turning the page. “She wrote that once you two got married, she was going to convince you to sell our childhood home so my brothers and I wouldn’t have a place to stay with Mom anymore.”
