Then again, after Mom stopped speaking. Then again, when Brian and I were choosing flowers for the service.
“Did she ever put anything in writing?” Chloe asked, scrolling on her phone like she was checking a shopping list.
Brian looked up sharply. “Chloe, please.”
“What?” she said. “I’m being practical.”
Mom always said it would stay in the family, but never wrote it down. Chloe took that as her opportunity.
By the time the funeral came, I felt hollowed out.
I had cried so much that my face hurt.
The house was full of relatives and friends afterward, everyone dressed in black, speaking in low voices, carrying paper plates of food nobody really wanted.
People hugged me. They told me Mom had been wonderful. They told me she was at peace. I nodded because that was what people expected. But all I could think about was how her room still smelled like lavender lotion and how her slippers were still by the bed.
Chloe wore a fitted black dress and moved through the room like she was hosting something. She accepted condolences with one hand on Brian’s arm and the other resting near her chest, showing off a bracelet I had never seen before.
At one point, Aunt Marcy squeezed my shoulder and murmured, “Your mother would be proud of how strong you’re being.”
I almost laughed.
Strong? I felt like glass.
Then Chloe cleared her throat loudly.
The sound cut through the quiet conversations. Heads turned. She walked straight toward me with her chin raised and her heels clicking against the hardwood floor.
“I think it’s time you gave me the ring,” she said, her voice sharp enough to silence the entire room.
I stared at her. “Excuse me?”
“Your mom promised it to me,” she added confidently. “I’m her only son’s wife. It belongs to me.”
For a second, I could not breathe.
That was a lie. Mom hadn’t spoken in weeks.
The room went completely still. People froze mid-conversation. My cousin Iris lowered her cup. Aunt Marcy’s mouth fell open. Someone near the fireplace whispered, “At the funeral? Seriously?”
Even my brother avoided eye contact.
“Brian?” I said quietly.
He rubbed the back of his neck and looked at the floor. “Harper, maybe we should talk about this later.”
Chloe let out a small, humorless laugh. “There’s nothing to talk about. Your mom knew I’d carry the family name forward. She wanted me to have it.”
