something.
Instead, I opened my laptop.
I had copies of every transfer I’d made to my parents.
Every mortgage payment.
Every utility bill.
Every medical expense.
Every wedding payment.
Every credit-card statement.
I wasn’t keeping the records to punish them.
I kept them because I worked in commercial real estate.
Documentation was simply how I lived.
I created one folder.
FAMILY EXPENSES — 10 YEARS
Then I closed the laptop.
I wasn’t going to send it.
Not yet.
THE WEDDING COLLAPSES
Three days later, Madison called again.
This time she wasn’t
