Chapter 8
The Christmas party was exactly the same as every other year.
The same fir tree in the corner, covered in the same handmade ornaments the kids had made in elementary school. The same smell of Marnie’s famous ham and sweet potato casserole. The same Bing Crosby album playing softly in the background.
The only difference was the tension.
It hung in the air thick enough to cut with a knife.
Callum and I walked in at 4 p.m., Renley between us, Bear on a leash at our heels. Marnie met us at the door, hugged all three of us, and whispered, “She’s here. In the living room. With Poppy.”
We walked into the living room.
Deline was standing by the fireplace, holding a glass of wine, laughing at something one of the cousins said. She was wearing a red velvet dress, her hair done perfectly, a diamond necklace around her neck—another thing she’d bought with our money.
She saw us.
Her smile faded.
She set her wine glass down a little too hard.
Callum walked to the middle of the room. He turned to face the whole family.
“Can I have everyone’s attention, please?” he said.
The room went quiet. Bing Crosby sang “White Christmas” softly from the other room.
“Most of you know we’ve been having some problems lately,” Callum said. “Problems between Deline and us. A lot of you have taken her side. A lot of you think Elara and I are the bad guys. That we’re destroying the family over nothing.”
He paused.
“You’re wrong.”
He signaled to Jake, who was standing by the front door, pretending to be a distant cousin. Jake turned on the projector he’d set up in the corner.
The first image on the wall was the will.
“Sixteen years ago,” Callum said, “our dad died. He left the lake cabin to Deline. Sole ownership. Mom never told any of us. Deline never told any of us. She let Mom and me spend $60,000 of our own money renovating a cabin that was already hers. She used it as collateral for hundreds of thousands of dollars in loans. Loans she had no intention of ever paying back.”
Next image: the loan documents, the forged signatures highlighted.
“She forged my signature. She forged Elara’s signature. She even forged Mom’s signature on multiple documents. She tied our house to her loans. If she’d defaulted, we would have lost everything. Our home. Our savings. Renley’s future.”
Next image: the college fund statements, the transfers highlighted.
“Over 18 months, she stole $20,100 from Renley’s college savings account. Money we’d saved since the day she was born. Money for her books. Her tuition. Her future. Deline spent it on designer bags. Trips to New York. A $4,200 weekend at a resort. Furniture for the cabin that wasn’t hers.”
Next image: the fake medical bills.
“She told me Mom needed emergency surgery. She cried. She begged me for help. She said she had no other way to pay for it. None of it was true. Mom never needed surgery. The bills were fake. The doctor was fake. It was all a lie to get me to sign more papers. To get me to feel sorry for her.”
Next image: the IP address report, the fake work emails.
“Two weeks ago, she sent anonymous emails to my job. Fake emails saying I’d embezzled money. She forged bank records. She forged receipts. I was suspended without pay. Twelve years at that job. Gone. Because she wanted to ruin me.”
Deline was standing by the fireplace, her face white, her hands shaking.
“Lies!” she screamed. “All of it! He’s lying! He’s just angry because I wouldn’t give him the cabin! He’s making it all up!”
Callum held up his phone. He pressed play.
Deline’s voice filled the room, loud and clear.
“Did you like my gift? I told you I’d make you sorry. Those dolls were always ugly anyway. Renley won’t miss them.”
Silence.
Then another recording.
“Told you I’d make your life hell. This is just the beginning. Every day from now on, something bad will happen to you.”
Then another.
“I’ll tell everyone you’re a gold digger. I’ll tell them you poisoned Callum against me. I’ll make Renley’s life miserable at school. Poppy will tell everyone she’s a thief.”
Callum pressed stop.
He looked at Deline.
“Want me to play the one where you admitted you forged the medical bills?” he said. “Or the one where you threatened to take Poppy away if I didn’t drop the charges? I have hours of this. Hours of you admitting every single thing you’ve done.”
He turned back to the family.
“On Thanksgiving,” he said, his voice breaking a little, “she grabbed Renley by the wrist. She pulled her away from the table in front of all of you. She called her selfish. She told her she was bad. And I stood there. I did nothing. I was scared. I’ve been scared of her my whole life. But I’m not scared anymore. She is not my sister. She is not family. Family doesn’t do this to the people they claim to love.”
Deline looked around the room.
At Marnie, who was crying, shaking her head.
At her husband—wait, her ex-husband—who Jake had invited, who was staring at her like he’d never seen her before.
At the aunts and uncles and cousins, all staring at her with disgust.
At Poppy, who was standing in the corner, her face crumpling, tears running down her face.
“Mommy?” Poppy whispered. “Is it true? Did you really steal from Renley?”
Deline ran to Poppy. She grabbed her arm.
“Of course it’s not true, baby,” she said, her voice sickly sweet. “They’re lying. All of them. They’re just jealous of us. Come on. We’re leaving.”
She tried to pull Poppy toward the door.
Poppy pulled away.
“No,” she said. “I don’t want to go with you. You lied. You made me lie to Renley. You made me say mean things. I hate you!”
She ran to Marnie, who picked her up and held her tight.
Deline stared at all of us. Her face twisted into something ugly. Something not human.
“Fine!” she screamed. “All of you! I don’t need any of you! I have the cabin! I have the shop! I have everything I need! You’ll all be sorry! You’ll see!”
She turned to run for the door.
Two police officers were standing there.
They’d been waiting outside the whole time.
“Deline Carter?” one of them said. “You’re under arrest for felony theft, forgery, fraud, harassment, and cyberstalking. You have the right to remain silent...”
They cuffed her. They read her her rights. They led her out the door, her screaming and kicking the whole way.
The room was silent.
Bing Crosby finished “White Christmas.”
Renley walked over to Poppy, still in Marnie’s arms. She held out Baxter to her.
“It’s okay,” Renley said. “My mom says everyone makes mistakes. Your mom will be okay. And you can come live with us if you want. We have extra beds. And Bear likes you.”
Poppy took Baxter. She hugged him tight.
“Really?” she said.
“Really,” Renley said, smiling.
Callum put his arm around me.
Marnie held both the little girls, crying happy tears now.
Jake winked at me from the door.
May you like
It was over.
Finally.
