Then one evening, the truth exploded.
We had just finished dinner when Catherine stood at the head of the table. “I need to say something,” she said, glancing around. Her tone was confident, almost rehearsed.
“I want to come back—for real. I want this family whole again.”
She turned to Rachel.
“Rachel, thank you for taking care of Taylor and Daniel. But this is my family. And now that I’m back, I think it’s time for you to leave. I don’t want drama. I just want what’s mine.”
My mouth dropped open. Rachel’s hands clutched her glass tighter, but she didn’t respond. Not right away.
Then Dad stood. Quietly. Firmly. He walked into the office and returned with a thick envelope.
“You’re right, Catherine,” he said. “This is your family. But you need to know something first.”
