“It became my house,” Rosemary said.

 “You’ve never mentioned money before,” Emma said. “You said there wasn’t any.”

 “It was a modest amount. There was no reason to discuss it,” she said. Then she winced as if in pain. “I was given discretion to use it for the children responsibly, and I did.”

 “You didn’t use any on me,” Emma pointed out.

 “You were married to a millionaire!” Rosemary screeched, which sent her into a coughing fit. Lauren came rushing to her side. She held her mother up until she recovered. Then she gently lowered her again.

 “I was sixteen when my father died,” Emma said. “I paid for college with scholarships, part-time work and loans. You remarried...”

 “You don’t need it now,” Lauren said bitterly.

 “My father built this house,” Emma said.

 “He left it to me and it has been transferred into my daughters’ names. I want you to tell your lawyer this business is finished, that we have nothing more to discuss. I want to be at peace with this. Please tell your lawyer that you’re satisfied everything is settled and stop pursuing this idiocy. Leave my poor girls what little I left them and go away. Don’t be picking my bones like a selfish brat.”

 “Stop,” Adam said. “Stop it right now. I’m sorry for your ill health, Rosemary, but I think you’ve abused this woman enough. It’s over.” Adam turned Emma around. “We should leave. There’s nothing more to discuss here.”

 “I just want to leave peacefully knowing you won’t visit your vengeance on my daughters,” Rosemary said.

 Emma just shook her head. “Why would I?”

 “Knowing you, you think you deserve everything. You’ve always been haughty, miss homecoming queen. Don’t steal what I left for my daughters.”

 Adam just shook his head. “Let’s go, Emma. You wouldn’t want this house. The meanness has seeped into the walls by now.” He looked at Rosemary with a frown.

 Adam took Emma’s hand and pulled her away. “Don’t listen to her anymore, Emma. These people are poisoned with envy. Come on.”

 She let him pull her to the car and help her inside.

 She sat still, saying nothing, stricken. He started the car and began to drive away and still she was silent. A good five minutes passed before she spoke. “I thought I was beyond being surprised by them. I thought I was beyond being hurt. She must hate me so much. Why does she hate me so much?”

 “I think Rosemary might hate a lot of people. At the least, I think very few people are cherished by her. Emma, you can walk away from them knowing you were very kind. More kind than I would’ve been. I think that woman stole from a grief-stricken child. I wouldn’t want to be where she’s going.”

 “She might meet Richard where she’s going—his values were similar, I think.”

 * * *

 The following week Emma finally met with Lucinda Lopez again.

 “It’s been over two weeks,” Lucinda said. “Your first Christmas in your hometown in at least ten years.”

 “More than that,” Emma said. “More like a dozen. It didn’t take me too many years after my father’s death to see that my stepmother and sisters didn’t really want me to interrupt their celebration. But it’s a whole new life now—a simpler, quieter life. There was a little excitement here and there.” Emma told Lucinda first about Bethany and how she seemed much brighter and stronger now that the holiday was past.

 “That’s very kind of you to take the time to listen to this troubled girl,” Lucinda said. “Would you do something for me? If you think she trusts you, will you please promote the idea of her talking to her counselor? And if her counselor isn’t helping her, suggest she ask for a new one or talk to someone at school. Kids that age who have suffered loss are feeling isolated and fragile. And they’re very unpredictable. I don’t want you to find yourself up against a situation you can’t handle. The loser could be the girl.”

 “Yes,” she said. “Yes, of course. Can I suggest you?”

 “You can suggest me, sure. In fact, you’re welcome to tell her you’re seeing a counselor. Sometimes that has a positive effect. I just worry when someone who has been depressed suddenly becomes cheerful.”

 Emma then told her about her visit with Rosemary and her plea that Emma leave her daughters and their inheritance alone. “My father’s been gone for eighteen years and while we were comfortable, he wasn’t a rich man. I can’t imagine there’s much, if anything. And I’m not going to stir up the curious press by going after money. In fact, I don’t want to hear the word money associated with my name in any way.”

 “You’ll do whatever makes you comfortable, Emma. I would like you to think about one thing. What your father had in his will was his ardent wish. If he willed something to you, he meant for you to have it.”

 “I understand that. But it was meant for college. He told me when I was just a little girl that he was saving for college. Well, college was paid for a long time ago.”

 “And you just had a very simple, very quiet holiday. Much different from what you’ve experienced the past decade, I suppose.”

 “I spent Christmas Eve and Christmas morning with Adam, who is more wonderful than you can imagine. He had dinner with his family at his mother’s house then came back to my little bungalow, bringing the best leftovers. I had to work the next morning but he’s off—Christmas break. He gave me a beautiful trench coat and I gave him a sweater and slippers. Lucinda, it was perfection. So peaceful. All the stress of the world was somewhere else for a change. No flashy baubles, no fancy parties.”