“So, you framed me for pushing Brittany? No cameras, conveniently,” Paisley snapped.

“But you did push her! Why else were you there?” Christina retorted.

Paisley’s gaze was icy. “Whether I did or not, you know the truth. Brittany knows. The neighbors know.”

Christina knew Paisley was innocent. She knew Brittany had faked the fall to hurt the neighbor’s daughter.

“But it all worked out, right? You apologized, they dropped it,” Christina argued, a smug smile playing on her lips. “They even smiled and moved.”

Paisley’s eyes narrowed. “Dropped it? I paid them seventeen million dollars. Covered their immigration, the girl’s surgeries, her education.” The truth hung heavy in the air. “I never told anyone in the Sullivan family. Too much money attracts the wrong kind of attention, especially after Grandpa died.” Her voice softened slightly. “All I wanted was a family.”

“Seventeen million?!” Christina shrieked, the money a tangible blow. “You had that much, and you never told me?”

“So you could hand it over to Brittany?” Paisley sneered.

Christina was speechless, stung. “And that’s not all,” Paisley continued, her voice rising. “Every fight, you sided with Brittany. Now you call me ‘Mom’?”

Tears welled in Paisley’s eyes. The hurt was familiar, a dull ache she’d grown used to. It wasn’t Christina’s lack of love, but her own self-neglect. She’d believed love was reciprocal, but it wasn't. Only self-love could fill that void. She’d learned that too late.

Brittany, sensing the shift in the room, tugged at Christina’s sleeve, panic rising.

Christina, feeling the tide turn against her, hated Paisley’s defiance. “What’s all this about the past? Brittany needs help! Apologize! Make them drop the charges. Do it, or don't call me ‘Mom’ again!”

It was her final gambit. She knew Paisley craved family, craved acceptance. This was just a tantrum, she reasoned. This wasn't a rejection of their relationship.