The silence that follows is so complete I can hear the old house settling around us. Creaking floorboards. Wind against the windows. The sound of Ben's world collapsing.
"You can't do that," Ben says, but his voice cracks on the last word. "That's not—Grandpa wouldn't—"
"Grandpa did," Jett says, turning away from the window. "We explained everything to him. The fraud scheme with Penelope. Your addiction. The plan to challenge the will and take control of the estate. We showed him the proof, and he made his decision."
Ben grabs the folder with shaking hands. I watch him read through the documents, watch the color drain from his face as he realizes we're not bluffing. The new will is clear. Everything goes to Jett, Pine, and me. Ben gets nothing unless he can prove one full year of sobriety, verified by medical professionals and family testimony.
One year. Not the three days he already quit on. One full year.
"This is bullshit," Ben says, slamming the folder back onto the table. "This is you three choosing some omega over your own brother. You're punishing me because I had the balls to call you out on fucking the wedding planner."
I feel something hot and sharp spike through my chest. Protective instinct mixed with anger mixed with something that wants to put my fist through Ben's face.
"Don't," I say, my voice low and dangerous. "Don't talk about Sharon like that."
"Why not?" Ben stands up, and now he's the one pacing. His movements are jerky, aggressive. The cocaine in his system making him bolder than he should be. "You're all so obsessed with her that you're willing to destroy your own family. You're choosing her over me."
"We're choosing Grandpa over you," Pine says, and his voice is cold enough to freeze. "We're choosing to protect a man with dementia from being robbed by his own son. Sharon just happened to be the one who helped us see what you were really planning."
"She manipulated you," Ben insists, and I can hear the desperation creeping into his voice now. "She came to Pine Hollow and wormed her way into your lives and turned you all against me. Can't you see that?"
"No," Jett says, moving closer to Ben. Not threatening, but definitely not friendly. "What we see is a brother who's been lying to us for two years, and planned to marry someone he didn't love so he could steal from our grandfather. That's what we see."
Ben looks between the three of us like he's searching for an ally and finding none. "I'm your brother. That has to mean something."
"It does," I say, and I step forward until I'm close enough to Ben that I can see every detail of his deterioration from the dull color of his skin to his hollow eyes. "It means we got you into rehab instead of calling the cops, and we're giving you a chance to get clean and come back to this family. But that chance comes with conditions."
"One year," Pine says, tapping the folder. "One full year of verified sobriety. Regular drug tests. Proof that you're working a program and staying clean. Do that, and we'll revisit the will."
"And if I don't?" Ben asks, his voice small now. Defeated.
"Then you don't," Jett says simply. "Then you stay wherever you end up, and we move on without you."
"You can't just cut me out," Ben says, but there's no fight left in his voice. Just resignation. "I'm family."
"Family protects each other," I say. "Family doesn't steal. Family doesn't lie. Family doesn't put an old man with dementia at risk just to fund a drug habit. You stopped being family the moment you decided Grandpa's money was worth more than his safety."
Ben's eyes are red now. Whether from tears or drugs or exhaustion, I can't tell. Maybe all three.
"What about Penelope?" he asks weakly. "Is she—did she—"
"Left town three days ago," Pine says, checking his phone like he's reading old messages. "Went back to Timber Ridge to take care of her grandmother. The one who's actually dying. Haven't heard from her since."
Ben nods slowly, like that's what he expected. Like he knew she'd abandon him the moment things got hard.
"And Sharon?" Ben asks, looking at me specifically. "Is she—are you—"
"None of your business," I say, but there's no heat in it. Just facts. "What happens between us and Sharon is between us and Sharon. You don't get a say in it. You don't get an opinion on it. You lost that right when you tried to use her to cover up your fraud scheme."
Ben stands there in Grandpa's living room, and I watch him realize that he's lost everything. His fiancée. His brothers' trust. His inheritance. His place in this family.
"I should go," he says quietly.
"Yeah," Jett says. "You should."
Pine stands up from the chair with the kind of controlled movement that suggests he's holding himself back from doing something violent. "Leave Pine Hollow, Ben. Go somewhere and get clean. Actually commit to it this time. Do the full ninety days. Do six months. Do whatever it takes. And when you can prove you're serious about recovery, we'll talk about what comes next."
"And if I can't?" Ben asks.
