Chapter 7
The room fell completely silent for a moment,
as the three of them looked down at the table,
staring at the thick white napkins in confusion.
My mother was the first to pull hers aside,
revealing the bright red folder hidden underneath,
her brow furrowing in deep, arrogant annoyance.
She asked what kind of silly game this was,
opening the cover with a dismissive flick of her wrist,
expecting to find a greeting card or a check.
Sierra opened hers with one hand,
while rocking the baby carrier with her foot,
letting out a small, confused breath of air.
Kevin stared at his folder like it was a bomb,
refusing to touch the red cardboard cover,
his intuition telling him he was entirely doomed.
I took a slow sip of my red wine,
savoring the rich, dark flavor on my tongue,
and told them to look at the first page.
My mother's eyes scanned the top document,
which was a highlighted bank statement,
showing the eleven thousand dollar withdrawal.
Her face lost all its arrogant color,
turning a sickening shade of pale gray,
as she realized what she was holding in her hands.
Sierra flipped to the second page of her folder,
gasping loudly when she saw the investigator's photos,
showing Kevin kissing her on her own front porch.
She dropped the folder onto her dinner plate,
knocking over her glass of sparkling water,
which spilled across the expensive wooden table.
Kevin finally opened his folder with shaking hands,
seeing the printed transcript of their hospital conversation,
which I had typed out from my perfect memory.
He looked up at me with sheer, absolute terror,
his mouth opening and closing like a dying fish,
unable to formulate a single coherent word.
I leaned forward,
resting my elbows on the edge of the table,
and broke the suffocating silence with a calm voice.
I told my mother she was absolutely right,
that I was indeed very good with my money,
and that I was exceptionally good at tracking it.
She stammered,
trying to find a way to gaslight me,
claiming the photos were a terrible misunderstanding.
I laughed a cold, humorless laugh,
asking her if the baby was a misunderstanding too,
or just a convenient solution to my infertility.
Sierra began to cry massive, theatrical tears,
burying her face in her hands and sobbing loudly,
playing the victim role she had perfected for years.
She wailed that it was an accident at first,
that she and Kevin had just found comfort in each other,
and that she never meant to hurt me so deeply.
I looked at her with pure, unadulterated disgust,
telling her that financing a secret life for months,
was not a simple accident of finding comfort.
I told her she was a pathetic, selfish coward,
who stole her sister's husband and savings,
just because she wanted to win a twisted competition.
Kevin stood up abruptly,
knocking his heavy wooden chair backward,
and tried to reach across the table to grab my hand.
He begged me to let him explain everything,
swearing that he still loved me very much,
and that Sierra was just a massive mistake.
Sierra stopped crying instantly,
glaring at Kevin with pure, venomous hatred,
screaming at him for calling their child a mistake.
The beautiful, fake family they had built,
May you like
was tearing itself apart right in front of my eyes,
imploding under the weight of their exposed lies.
