Claire’s silence answered before her mouth did.
“Yes.”
The word hurt more than I expected.
She had not merely invented lies in a moment of jealousy.
She had participated in a plan.
“How did it begin?” I asked.
“Mom said we needed to stop the next payment.
She told me to call Dad and say you had dropped out.
She said he would believe me if I sounded scared.”
“And the gambling debts?”
“Mom’s idea.”
“The married professor?”
Claire covered her face.
“Mine.”
The monitor quickened.
I kept my voice level.
“Why?”
“Because the first lie didn’t feel big enough.
Dad might have called the school.
I needed something shameful enough that he wouldn’t want to ask questions.”
The cruelty of it was precise.
They had not simply lied.
They had designed the lie around my parents’ pride.
“Who created the fake email account?”
“I did.”
“Who intercepted my letters?”
“Mom.
She told Dad she was sorting the mail because he was overwhelmed after her surgery.”
“And the trust transfer?”
Claire’s breathing changed.
A nurse glanced through the glass, but I lifted one hand to indicate that we were all right.
Claire whispered, “Mom said the money should stay in the family.”
“It was already in the family.
It was mine.”
“She said you had chosen strangers over us.”
“I was in medical school.”
“I know.”
“Where did the money go?”
Claire looked at me, terrified.
“Some paid off Mom and Dad’s second mortgage.”
My stomach tightened.
Dad had told me years earlier that the mortgage was nearly paid.
I remembered Mom’s new kitchen appearing in family photographs posted online months after I lost my tuition support.
“What else?”
“Mom put money into my event-planning business.
The rest went to an investment account.”
“In whose name?”
“Hers.”
I stepped back from the bed.
Claire reached for me but stopped when the IV line pulled.
“She told me it was temporary,” she said.
“She said once you failed out, nobody would question it.”
“But I didn’t fail.”
“No.”
“I sent proof.”
