"A misunderstanding." She breathes the words like poison. "He sold me to a cartel, and it's a misunderstanding?"
"Don't engage," I tell her. "Let him talk. See what he reveals."
But she's already moving, standing up in full view of the window, weapon pointed directly at her brother.
"Stop," I start, but she ignores me.
"A misunderstanding?" She shouts it, and her voice is razor-sharp. "Which part, Tyler? The part where you racked up one hundred and eighty thousand in gambling debt? Or the part where you offered me as collateral to a cartel?"
Tyler has the grace to look uncomfortable. "Mags, if you'd just let me explain?—"
"Don't call me that." The rifle in her hands doesn't waver. "You don't get to use that name anymore."
"I'm your brother?—"
"You were my brother." She takes a step closer to the window, and I can see her finger on the trigger, see the tension in her shoulders. "I spent ten years taking care of you. Making sure you had everything you needed. And you sold me? What kind of brother does that?"
"I was trying to protect you." Tyler's voice rises, defensive. "The cartel was going to kill me if I didn't pay. I had to give them something?—"
"So you gave them me."
"I was going to get you out. Once I paid off the debt, once I had the money, I was going to?—"
"Liar." The single word cuts through his explanation. "You were never going to get me out. The trust fund was just the bonus. I was always the primary payment."
Tyler's mask cracks. I see it from here—the moment herealizes she knows everything. That she's not the naive older sister he thought he could manipulate anymore.
"How did you—" He stops. "Did he say that? The one who rescued you? How do you know he’s not doing the same thing? Maggie, he's lying to you. He's trying to turn you against me. We're family?—"
"Family doesn't sell family," Maggie cuts him off. "Family doesn't meet with cartel lieutenants while their sister is being hunted. Family doesn't help track down someone they claim to love so they can hand them over to settle a debt."
"I was trying to make a deal. To get you back safe?—"
"You were trying to get paid." Her voice breaks, but the rifle doesn't. "Just admit it, Tyler. For once in your life, admit what you are."
Silence. Long and heavy and damning.
Then Tyler's expression changes. The fake concern drops away, replaced by something uglier. Resentment. Bitterness. The real Tyler emerges from behind the performance.
"You want the truth?" His voice is different now. Sharper. "Fine. You were suffocating me. Always the perfect sister. Always the responsible one. Always making me feel like a fucking failure because you had your shit together and I didn't."
"So you sold me."
"So I took control of my own life." He's shouting now. "That trust fund is half mine. You have no right to keep it from me."
"Two years, Tyler. It's been accessible for two years. And I said no because I knew you'd blow it on exactly the kind of stupid shit that got you into debt in the first place."
"It’s my money?—"
"It’s Mother's legacy." Her voice cracks fully now. "She wanted us to have security. To have something she never had. And you—you gambled it away before you even had it. You sold your own sister to cover your losses."
"I didn't have a choice. They were going to kill you."
"There's always a choice." She's crying now, tears streaming down her face, but her hands are still steady. "You chose gamblingover family. You chose debt over doing the right thing. You chose to sell me rather than face the consequences of your own actions."
Tyler’s voice cracks. "Maggie, please. You know me. Whatever this man told you—he’s lying. He wants to turn you against me. We’re family. Family doesn’t?—"
"Sign over trust document?"
