Vanessa’s hand froze in midair. Her eyes dropped to the screen, and the color drained from her face. “That is completely different,” she whispered. “Mom inherited that land.” I kept one finger on the phone. “And I earned my pension over twenty-eight years of double shifts, Vanessa.” Derek slowly lifted his head and looked at the photograph, then at his wife, as if he were reading the caption for the first time.

Vanessa’s lips pressed into a thin line. Then she laughed, sharp and shaky, and pushed her chair back. “You want to talk about family honesty, Margaret?” she said. “Fine. Ask your son where the eighteen thousand dollars really went.” Derek’s face turned gray. “Vanessa, stop,” he begged, but she was already pulling a folded paper from her purse and sliding it across the table toward me.