“I know exactly what I’m talking about.”
She took a step closer to him.
“I was at your wedding. I watched Eleanor’s face when she said her vows. She wasn’t in love with you, Victor. She was terrified. And now I understand why.”
Another cousin chimed in. Robert, who had always seemed to worship Victor.
“Is this true? You knew from the beginning.”
“This is none of your business.”
“It became our business when you made your announcement.”
Robert’s voice was cold.
“We all laughed. I laughed at a woman who never did anything to deserve it.”
The mood in the room had shifted palpably. These weren’t strangers accusing Victor. They were family. People who had witnessed years of subtle cruelty and explained it away. People who were now realizing they had been complicit.
“You made us all part of your vendetta,”
Margaret continued.
“Every joke at Sabrina’s expense, every dismissive comment. You wanted us to look down on her, and we did, because we trusted you.”
Victor’s face had gone from pale to modeled red.
“I gave that girl everything.”
Everything except basic human decency.
The silence that followed was deafening, and somewhere across town, I was pulling into my apartment parking lot, finally able to breathe.
According to Margaret, the most devastating moments came from Victor’s own children.
Marcus was the first to crack. He’d been pacing behind his father, trying to manage the situation when the full weight of the revelation finally hit him. He stopped midstride, staring at the adoption paper still clutched in Victor’s hand.
“Wait.”
His voice was strange, hollow.
“Wait, wait, wait.”
“Marcus.”
Victor reached for him.
“You knew.”
Marcus stepped back.
“My whole life you told me Sabrina was a disappointment. That she wasn’t living up to the Prescott name. That I had to work harder because she was dragging us down.”
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