Spoiled brat?I stare at her.One parent dead, the other dead to me even though she's sitting across from me.
I stare at her. “Sawyer found it attached to my car.”
“Convenient, don’t you think? Your new boyfriend just happens to find evidence that supports your story?”
“You think I’m lying?”
“I think you’re confused. I think you let your feelings for this man cloud your judgment.”
I stand up, my chair scraping against the floor. “Get out.”
“Excuse me?”
“I said get out of my house.”
Mom doesn’t move. “Alice, we’re not done talking.”
“Yes, we are.”
“Lance’s family is filing their own complaint. They have lawyers, Alice. Good ones. They can make this very difficult for him.”
“Goodbye Mother.” I’m calling their bluff, even though deep down I’m terrified.
“Sign this statement and end this nonsense.”
I look at the paper on my table, then back at my mother. “Why do you care so much about protecting Lance?”
“It’s not about Lance. It’s about you making smart decisions for once.”
“That’s not why. This is about your job, isn’t it?” I step closer to her.
Mom’s face doesn’t change, but something flickers in her eyes. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Lance’s family. Carlston Properties. That’s who you work for.”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“Everything. They’re your boss. If Lance goes to prison, what happens to your job?”
“Alice, that’s not—”
“That's exactly what this is about.” The pieces fall into place. My heart is pounding but my voice is steady. "You're not here to protect me. You're here to save your own career.”
Mom stands up, her face flushed. “How dare you.”
“How dare I what? Tell the truth? You’d rather see me get hurt than lose your paycheck.”
“I would rather see you stop being dramatic and think about the consequences of your actions.”
“My actions? What about Lance’s actions? What about the fact that he made my life hell for years? But of course since he was always the son you’ve always wanted, you wouldn’t care. I know I wasn’t a kid you wanted, but you could show me some dignity.”
“You’re exaggerating.”
“Am I? He tracked my every move. He broke into my house. He grabbed me hard enough to leave bruises. But sure, Mom. I’m exaggerating.”
“You always were prone to theatrics.”
I push my glasses up my nose. The dismissal in her voice breaks something inside me. “You know what? You’re right. I am dramatic. I’m so dramatic that I actually thought my own mother would believe me when I told her someone was hurting me.”
