For the first time since I had met her, Patricia had no insult ready. She looked at Daniel, expecting him to laugh, deny it, save her pride.
He looked at the porch floor.
That small movement destroyed him.
“What does she mean?” Patricia whispered.
Daniel’s jaw tightened. “Mom, not here.”
But humiliation is harder to contain when it arrives in public.
Across the street, Mrs. Keller slowed with her dog. A gardener paused near the hedge. Patricia noticed them and straightened like royalty under attack.
“You’re lying,” she hissed.
I opened the front gate remotely, but not the door.
“Daniel can collect his personal items later through my lawyer. You are both trespassing if you stay.”
Daniel looked up at the camera, panic slipping through his charm.
“You’re making a mistake.”
“No,” I said. “I made the mistake three years ago.”
Before he could respond, a black sedan pulled up at the curb. My assistant, Mark, stepped out with a clipboard and two security officers.
Daniel stared at them.
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