“Yes.”
“You threw her out.”
His jaw tightened.
“She chose—”
“You threw her out.”
He looked around.
“Not here.”
“You hid her letters.”
“Clare.”
“You lied to me for fifteen years.”
“I was trying to protect—”
“No.”
Her voice cracked.
“You don’t get to use that word anymore.”
Dad’s face hardened.
“Then what exactly do you want?”
Clare looked at him for a long moment.
“Nothing.”
That frightened him more than anger.
“What?”
“I don’t want your trust.”
His mouth opened.
“I don’t want your apartment.”
“Clare.”
“I don’t want your car.”
“Don’t be stupid.”
“I don’t want your money.”
His face changed completely.
There was the downfall.
Not losing a fortune.
Losing its power.
Clare removed something from her small bridal purse.
A set of keys.
She placed them on the table.
Apartment.
Car.
Office access.
Dad stared at them.
“You’ll regret this.”
