“The vibe is already ruined,” I said, my voice steady, “because the party is over. Everyone needs to leave now.”
I looked around at the guests.
“I apologize for the inconvenience, but this event is canceled. Please take your gifts and exit the premises immediately.”
A few of the women started to shuffle awkwardly, reaching for their purses. The spell of Vanessa’s influence was breaking. They sensed the danger. The legal reality of that document sitting next to the cake.
“No one is going anywhere!” Vanessa shrieked, stepping in front of the door like a guard dog. “This is my baby shower. These are my guests. You don’t get to command my friends.”
She turned on me, her face twisting into a mask of pure malice.
“You’re just jealous, Georgia. You’ve always been jealous. You’re a lonely, bitter spinster with a bank account, but no life. You buy things for people because you think it buys their love. Well, guess what? It doesn’t. Jason and I are the ones who are actually here. We’re the ones giving them a grandchild. You’re just the wallet.”
The insult hung in the air, cruel and calculated. I saw my mother flinch in the corner. I saw Jason cover his face with his hands. But I didn’t flinch.
I felt a strange sense of calm.
She had just shown everyone exactly who she was.
“I may be the wallet,” I said softly, “but right now, the wallet is closed. And since you brought up the topic of giving things to our parents, let’s talk about what you were planning to take.”
I turned to the guests, raising my voice slightly so the women near the back could hear.
“Before I came down here, I checked the public records on my phone. Vanessa mentioned earlier that they were taking over the mortgage to help my parents. But since there is no mortgage, I dug a little deeper into why she would need my parents to sign paperwork.”
I looked at Jason. He went pale.
“Jason, did you know that Vanessa has a pending lien on her credit report and that she was trying to get Mom and Dad to cosign a home equity line of credit on this property?”
Jason’s head snapped up.
“What? No. She said… she said it was just transfer papers for the utility bills.”
“She lied,” I said, pointing at Vanessa. “She was trying to leverage the equity in this paid-off house—my paid-off house—to take out a loan in Mom and Dad’s name. She wasn’t paying their bills. She was planning to use their home as an ATM to fund her lifestyle.”
The room erupted in whispers. The guests were no longer confused. They were scandalized. Attempting to trick elderly in-laws into debt was a line that even the most entitled social climber knew not to cross.
Vanessa’s face went from red to a ghostly white.
“That’s a lie. You’re making that up.”
“Am I?” I pulled up the email on my phone from my lawyer who had done a quick search while I was on the line earlier. “I have the inquiry right here. Applicant: Vanessa Miller. Co-signers: David and Martha Miller. Collateral: residential property.”
I held the phone up. Vanessa lunged for it, but I stepped back.
“It’s fraud, Vanessa,” I said coldly. “And since I am the trustee, I am the only one who can authorize a lien. You were trying to bypass me. You were trying to steal from them.”
Vanessa looked around, desperate for an ally. She grabbed Jason’s arm.