“You went behind my back to appraise my property?” I asked, my voice rising.
“Our property,” she corrected smoothly.
I slammed my hand on the table.
“No. Mine. Dad’s will was clear. He left the cabin and the land to me. End of story.”
Mom’s voice cut through, icy.
“Don’t raise your voice in my house.”
I turned on her.
“Your house or Megan’s? Hard to tell these days.”
Megan set her glass down, smirking.
“You think a few legal papers make you untouchable. Courts can be persuaded. Judges can be convinced. And you, with your military schedule, you don’t have the time or stability to fight this battle.”
“Oh.” I leaned across the table. “Try me.”
For a moment, the mask slipped. Megan’s smirk faltered, her eyes flashing with anger. Then she straightened, smooth again.
“This attitude won’t end well for you.”
