Then she saw the man in front of her.
Cold.
Angry.
Already decided.
“How much?” Evelyn asked, though she already knew the answer would not be reasonable.
“Two thousand dollars,” her mother said.
Paige swallowed and added, “That covers enough to keep things from getting worse.”
Evelyn let out a breath.
Two thousand dollars.
Not for Ruby’s medication.
Not for groceries.
Not for the electric bill.
Money for Paige’s rent, Paige’s car payment, Paige’s credit card mess, Paige’s life that everyone in the family kept treating like Evelyn’s emergency.
“No,” Evelyn said.
The room changed around that word.
Her mother’s face hardened.
Paige looked up at last.
Her father took one step forward.
“What did you say?” he asked.
Evelyn looked at Ruby’s pale face and the hospital bracelet still around her wrist.
“I said no.”
Her mother slammed one hand on the counter.
“After everything this family has done for you?”
Evelyn almost laughed.
Everything.
That was the word they always used when they wanted to erase what she had done.
Evelyn had been paying family bills since she was twenty-three.
She had covered Paige’s phone when it was shut off.
She had paid her parents’ property tax installment one spring when her father was out of work.
She had bought groceries, covered prescriptions, sent money, answered calls, shown up with casseroles, and apologized for boundaries she had every right to have.
Her mother had been at Ruby’s birth.
She had held the emergency folder when Evelyn was a scared new mother trying to be responsible.
Copies of birth certificates.
Insurance information.
A Social Security card copy.
Emergency contacts.