The entire table turned toward me.
Mrs. Sterling began asking follow-up questions.
Tumor resistance.
Microenvironment.
Immune exhaustion.
I answered those too.
Then Brad asked about my research.
I mentioned the suturing system.
“A working prototype?”
“Yes.”
“Have you patented it?”
My mother kicked me beneath the table.
Khloe’s expression changed.
The conversation had shifted away from her.
She reached for the wine.
The decanter tipped.
Red Cabernet poured across my gray dress.
“Oh my God,” Khloe said.
Then:
“Zora, you’re so clumsy.”
My mother immediately blamed me.
Dad told me to clean myself up.
In the bathroom, Khloe followed.
“You were flirting with Brad.”
“No.”
“You were trying to make me look stupid.”
“You didn’t need help.”
Her face went red.
She grabbed my arm.
“Know your place.”
I looked at her hand.
Then at her.
“What place is that?”
“The background.”
She leaned closer.
“You are the wallet with a pulse.”
For the first time, I laughed.
Khloe released me.
“Why are you laughing?”
“Because you’re scared.”
“Of you?”
“Yes.”
She stared.
“You don’t even know why yet.”
That night, my parents arrived at my apartment.
Dad carried a legal envelope.
“Sign this.”
“What now?”
“Big Mama’s house.”
My body went cold.
The Savannah house had belonged to my grandmother.
Three generations.
Family photographs.
Summer afternoons.
The only place in childhood where I never felt compared to Khloe.
“What about it?”
“We have a buyer.”
“For what?”
“Development.”
“They want to tear it down?”
Dad shrugged.
“The land is valuable.”
Mom added:
“We need liquidity for the wedding.”
I looked at them.
“You want to sell Big Mama’s house for flowers.”
“Don’t be sentimental.”
Dad pushed the papers toward me.
“Your name is still on the deed because of her will. Sign.”
I refused.
He became angry.
I still refused.
After they left, I read everything.
That was when I found the second mortgage.
One hundred thousand dollars.
Taken eighteen months earlier.
Borrowers:
David Brooks.
Patricia Brooks.
Zora Brooks.
My signature appeared on the loan.
I had never signed it.
The room tilted.
I looked through old records.
Dates.
Messages.