“Separate,” Penelope interrupted.
“That was your decision on Thursday.”
Silence spread across the kitchen.
The labels inside the refrigerator suddenly looked less ridiculous.
Through the open doorway, bright blue strips were visible on cartons, containers, and produce drawers.
Toby cleared his throat.
“Fine.
You helped Mom.
We appreciate it.
But that doesn’t explain one hundred sixty thousand dollars.”
Penelope opened the largest section of the folder.
“Transfers, loans, gifts, emergency payments, and favors requested by Liam for his family: ninety thousand four hundred seventy-seven dollars and sixty-three cents.”
Toby’s wife inhaled sharply.
Toby stared at the pages.
“That’s a lie.”
Penelope slid the first bank statement toward him.
“Eight thousand dollars for your overdue rent and security deposit last February.”
Toby did not touch it.
“You offered to help.”
“Liam asked me to help.
He said you would repay us within three months.”
“I paid some of that back.”
“You transferred Liam nine hundred dollars.
None of it came to me.”
Everyone looked at Liam.
He lifted both hands.
“I probably used it for household expenses.”
“Which household expense?” Penelope asked.
“I don’t remember every dollar from months ago.”
“I do.”
She turned to the next statement.
“Six thousand four hundred for Toby’s car repair.
Twelve thousand for the business equipment he planned to resell.
Five thousand for school expenses and clothes.
Three thousand eight hundred for the refrigerator at Beatrice’s house.
Nine thousand for holiday travel, gifts, and the family dinner Liam insisted on hosting.”
Toby’s wife stepped closer.
“Wait.
The school expenses weren’t nine thousand.”
“They weren’t,” Penelope said.
“That line includes other transfers Liam grouped under the same explanation.”
She handed the woman a copy.
Toby’s wife studied it, then looked at her husband.
“What was the second five-thousand-dollar transfer?”
Toby’s face went red.
“That’s not her business.”
“It came from her account,” Toby’s wife said.
“It is literally her business.”
The alliance in the room began to crack.
Beatrice pushed back from the table.
“This is vulgar.
Family members do not collect receipts against one another.”
Penelope’s voice remained calm.
“Then family members should not keep score with lies.”
“You are humiliating us over money.”
“No.
