He snatches back the paper, whips off his glasses, and glares at me. I’ve never had his undivided attention before. If I’d known spending a few thousand dollars was the way to get it, I might’ve bought a sports car on my sixteenth birthday or a yacht on my eighteenth. I might’ve spent the money when his attention mattered to me. I couldn’t care less what he thinks now. I know what I did and I know why.

“Was it for that Austin character?”

“Yes,” I answer flatly. “What do you care? It’s my money, isn’t it?”

“What do I care? I thought you were smarter than this.” He puts his palms on my shoulders, one of the most tender gestures he’s ever made, and I resent him for it. “It was bad enough when he was rude to your aunt at our Christmas party, but now you are paying his legal bills. What sort of trouble has he gotten you into?”

I cross my arms and bite back a sigh. “It was a school hearing, not a criminal one. And not that you asked, but Austin is innocent.”

“Beth, this man is not innocent. He is using you, trading on our good name and fleecing you for money.”

He is condescending and obtuse, same as always. But it doesn’t make me cower or feel small. Something is different this time. I’m different. Now, it makes me angry.

I chuckle at the irony. “You’ve never cared about me or what I do before. But now that it involves a little money or potential embarrassment, you want to play the concerned father?” He drops his hands to his sides and stares at me as if I’m speaking in tongues. “Sorry, but that ship sailed about a decade ago with my self-worth and idealism on board.”

My father slips his glasses back on and tips his nose up in the air. “You may think I was not present for your childhood, but I assure you I care about your wellbeing more than this sycophant.”

I take a sharp breath and calm myself down before I answer, “His name is Austin and he has never asked me for anything.”

My father sighs. “Of course he would never outright ask. He is manipulating you to believe it was your idea. He is praying on your naivety for his own personal advantage.”

I stand my ground. “He’s not manipulating me. Hell, he doesn’t even know I was the one who helped him. Mr. Phillips kept me anonymous.”

“Beth, I am your father and I am not accustomed to—”

“Father?” I interrupt him. Years of neglect final boil over in my veins. I lash out at him. “You’ve never been my father. You are a figurehead. A misanthrope.”