A threat.
Adam looked at him for a long moment.
“Keep the money.”
Camille turned toward him.
“Adam—”
“Keep all of it,” he repeated.
“We can get married at city hall.
We can get married in my mother’s backyard.
We are not buying a wedding with your signature.”
Philippe’s composure cracked.
“You have no idea what you are refusing.”
“Neither did Camille,” Adam said.
“That was the point.”
Luc reached for the folder again.
This time Camille closed it and held it against her chest.
“No.”
It was one word, but her entire body changed when she said it.
Her shoulders lowered.
Her chin lifted.
The careful smile she had worn all weekend disappeared.
Luc stared at her.
“Give me the folder.”
“No.”
“It is confidential.”
“It has my name on every page.”
“You are behaving like a child.”
“Then stop asking a child to sign legal documents.”
Adam looked down, hiding a brief smile.
Luc did not.
He stepped around the table, but Philippe raised a hand and stopped him.
He understood that grabbing the folder would confirm what their words had not.
So he tried tenderness instead.
“Camille,” he said, softening his voice, “your brother has carried responsibilities you never wanted.
This arrangement recognizes reality.”
She looked at him with tears in her eyes.
“I wanted responsibility.
You called me difficult whenever I asked for information.”
“Because you questioned every decision.”
“That is what responsibility looks like.”
Hélène set the plate down.
“Your father has spent his life protecting you.”
“From what?”
No one answered.
Camille looked from her mother to her father, then to Luc.
“From knowing what belonged to me? From disagreeing with him? From discovering that Luc’s plans needed my consent?”
Luc exhaled sharply.
“You are making this personal.”
“You discussed my weakness in front of me because you thought Margaret could not understand.
It was already personal.”
Hélène looked at me with naked anger now.
“You listened to a private family conversation.”
“You held it at a dinner table where I was sitting,” I said.
“You should have disclosed that you spoke French.”
I nearly laughed.
“You should not require ignorance from the people around you in order to behave decently.”
Philippe flinched as if I had raised my voice.
