“It was four million dollars, Mother. Yes, I expected at least some of it to still be lying around after I busted my ass to pay for everything month after month.”

Fuck. I couldn’t stop it. My body was shaking. My breathing rapid.

I had held on to hope that maybe my life would turn around. That it wouldn’t have to be this shitty. That something could go my way for once after everything.

But no. I wasn’t meant to get a break.

“Addison Mercer!” Mother hissed, trying to chide me like a child who was speaking out of line.

“You didn’t have to pay for anything, Mother. I was working to take care of us. So why? Why hide it? Where did you spend it? And why try to kill yourself when it was gone?”

“Because I couldn’t handle the shame of it anymore!” Her admission silenced my racing heart. “Everyone I knew still whispered about what he did! About the lives he ruined! They said I was responsible for not seeing it! For protecting him with my family name.”

She started sobbing at the end, and guilt ate at my insides.

Did she feel like this the entire time?

“So yes, I used the money so people wouldn’t know how poor we were,” she said. “They saw just how he ruined everyone else’s lives, but I still… I still wanted to come out on top, even if it was a lie. Because sometimes… Sometimes I thought they were right. If I hadn’t been with him, if my parents hadn’t tried all they could to clean up our image by marrying me off to him when they were still alive… maybe it wouldn’t have gotten so bad, you know?”

She blamed herself for it.

All this time, while I had been simmering in my misplaced anger, Mother had been killing herself from the inside out with all the guilt she’d been stockpiling.

This time when I reached forward, she let me take her hand.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I whispered.

“Because you loved him,” she said, letting the tears fall. “And I couldn’t ruin that for you. Not after we ruined everything else. I know we were shitty parents, Addi. I’m sorry I couldn’t be a good mom to you. I just never knew how. The least I could give you was this.”

Her confession was like a knife to the chest.

It all comes back to me. And I never even noticed her struggle.

I squeezed her hand.

“I have it covered. You don’t have to worry about a thing, okay, Mom?”

Her tears flowed more heavily.

“I’m sorry, baby,” she said and shakily brought her hand to my hair. “I’ve put you in a tough spot.”

The knot in my throat grew.