Debra didn’t speak right away after the door shut behind us. She just stood there, arms folded, cool eyes scanning the room like she was evaluating whether it was beneath her. I let the silence stretch for a beat, then another. If she wasn’t going to open, I would.
“You talked to the lawyers.” It wasn’t a question.
“I did.” Debra offered no apology. “And now, I’m talking to you. I’m sure you can understand the delay. This entire situation has been… unexpected.”
Unexpected. That was rich. “You held a press conference insinuating your father was mentally unwell and that I was under investigation for elder abuse.”
Debra crossed to an antique desk—one of the few surfaces in the room not buried under accessories or clothing—and perched lightly on the edge. “Yes, well, your legal team could
