Some of these relatives genuinely seemed surprised to see me.
One cousin approached with a paper plate in her hand.
“Elena, thank you for doing this,” she said.
“Marcus said you offered the house because you were away.”
There it was.
I looked at Marcus.
His expression changed just enough for me to see it.
He hadn’t merely assumed I would tolerate the reunion.
He had told people I had invited them.
“He said that?” I asked.
My cousin nodded.
“Yeah.
He said this was your gift to the family.”
Marcus cut in immediately.
“It’s basically the same thing.”
“No,” I said.
“It isn’t.”
Dad appeared beside him.
“Elena.
Kitchen.
Now.”
I almost laughed at the command.
Instead, I followed them because I wanted to hear what they believed could possibly justify this.
Mom joined us near the sink.
Marcus crossed his arms.
“Can we please not turn this into some giant moral crisis?”
I looked at him.
“Did you tell everyone I offered my house?”
“I said you wouldn’t mind.”
“That’s not what she just told me.”
Mom rubbed her forehead.
“We knew you’d make this difficult.
That’s why nobody told you until afterward.”
Her answer landed harder than Marcus’s arrogance.
Nobody told you until afterward.
This had not been a misunderstanding.
They had planned around my absence.
Dad leaned closer.
“Everybody is already here.
Whatever point you’re trying to make, make it later.”
“How did Marcus get authorization for a venue contract?”
The room went still.
Marcus blinked once.
Mom looked at him.
Dad’s face tightened.
“What contract?” Dad asked.
I kept my eyes on Marcus.
“The one in my office.”
Marcus recovered quickly.
“It’s paperwork.
They needed something for the reunion arrangements.”
“With my signature?”
Mom turned toward him completely now.
“Marcus?”
He let out an irritated breath.
“Oh, come on.
