It wasn’t about safety; it was about control.
The meeting at the attorney’s office was scheduled for eleven, but Aunt Sammie called me at nine.
“I know that your father’s will is being read today. I thought maybe we could walk in together,” she said. “Family should sit together, don’t you think?”
“You never sat with us before,” I said, unsure how else to answer.
“Oh, Clover. That was a long time ago.”
There was a pause — long enough to remind me she was still there.
“Family should sit together, don’t you think?”
“I just… I know things were tense back then,” she continued. “But your mother and I… we had a complicated bond. And Michael — well, I know you cared for him.”
“Cared?” I asked. “I adore him, Aunt Sammie. He was everything to me.”
Another pause.
“I just want today to go smoothly. For everyone.”
“I know you cared for him.”
When Aunt Sammie arrived, she greeted the lawyer by name and shook his hand like they were old friends. She kissed my cheek, and the smell of rose hand cream clung to my skin long after she’d stepped away.
She wore pearls and soft pink lipstick, her blonde hair swept into a bun that made her look younger.
When the lawyer began reading the will, she kept dabbing her eyes with a tissue she hadn’t used until someone else looked her way.
She kissed my cheek.
When he finished and asked if there were any questions, I stood.
“I’d like to say something.”
The room quieted, and I met my aunt’s eyes. “You didn’t lose a sister when my mother died. You lost control.”
A cousin at the far end of the table let out a small, stunned laugh. “Sammie… What did you do?”
The lawyer cleared his throat. “For the record, Michael preserved correspondence related to an attempted custody action.”
“Sammie… What did you do?”
“Clover, what are you —”
“I know about the letters and the threats. And the lawyers. You tried to take me from the only parent I had left.”
