The moment she heard the commotion, Audrey squeezed her way to Clay's side. She crossed her arms over her chest and tilted her chin up, looking down at me as though I were something beneath her notice.
"Dorothy, quit playing dumb and spouting nonsense! My mom is perfectly fine. It's her birthday, and she'll be here any minute. Your mother didn't know her place, faked an illness, and got herself killed. That's on her. Don't you dare try to pin this on Evangeline!"
With a flick of her wrist, she signaled to the servant behind her, who immediately produced a document and slapped it down on the memorial table in front of me. The white silk draping shuddered from the impact, and a fine shower of incense ash drifted to the floor.
"Be smart about this. Sign the pardon letter. Evangeline is being generous enough to overlook your mother's little scam. Don't push your luck."
Clay glanced at the document, his expression dark and sharp-edged, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Dorothy. Sign it. Consider the matter closed. Stop dragging your mother's death into my mom's birthday banquet, or I promise you won't like what happens next."
I lowered my gaze to the paper. The words were plain enough: Evangeline Fox bears no responsibility. Dorothy Simmons voluntarily waives all claims.
I pushed it back across the table. My voice was flat, without a ripple of emotion. "If anyone should be signing something, it's you two. I'm not the one with standing here."
Clay took that as defiance. His voice dropped to a register so low it practically vibrated with menace. "Dorothy, don't test me. Your mother was an unemployed old woman. She contributed nothing to this world. Evangeline is young. She has a brilliant career ahead of her. Are you really going to ruin her entire future over a dead woman?"
"Exactly!" Audrey piled on without missing a beat, her words dripping with cruelty. "Your mother was a waste of space, leeching off the Farley family. Evangeline did everyone a favor by getting rid of that burden. You should be grateful, not trying to shake us down. How thick can your skin possibly be?"
The guests around us chimed in, their whispered barbs flying like needles. Not a single one pierced me. I lifted my eyes and swept a cold gaze across the Farley siblings, enunciating every word.
"You've got it wrong. What I mean is, the person who died on the operating table was your mother. This pardon letter? You should be signing it for her."
Audrey exploded instantly, her voice shrill enough to crack glass. "Dorothy, have you lost your mind?! Cursing my mother at her own birthday banquet? You've gone insane with grief!"
Clay's face turned ashen. A vein at his temple throbbed violently, and he jabbed a finger at me, barely containing his fury. "Dorothy, I've been far too lenient with you all these years. That's clearly why you've become so brazen you've forgotten basic respect for your elders. My mother is the most important person in my life. No one disrespects her. Not even you. I don't care that you're my wife."
Rage had consumed him completely. He whipped around to the bodyguards behind him and barked, "Go in there and smash that memorial tablet to pieces. Drag the body out and dump it at Potter's Field! Let's see how her ungrateful daughter exploits the Farley family after that!"
The bodyguards hesitated. They looked at Clay, red-faced and seething, then at me, standing perfectly still. One of them spoke up cautiously. "Dr. Farley, that doesn't seem... I mean, with all due respect, the deceased..."
"What's the problem?" Clay roared. The viciousness in his eyes was barely contained. "Her daughter dared to curse my mother. This is the consequence. Do what I said. If anything comes of it, I'll take full responsibility."
The bodyguard didn't dare refuse again. He rolled up his sleeves and started toward the memorial hall. The guests around me pointed and whispered, their voices grating and relentless.
"Dorothy's completely lost it. Touching Dr. Farley's sore spot like that. Everyone knows he worships his mother. She's got a death wish."
"No kidding. Old Mrs. Farley raised those two all by herself. Dr. Farley treats her like she's made of glass. And Dorothy goes and curses her mother-in-law at her own birthday banquet? Disgraceful doesn't begin to cover it."
"No wonder her mother died. Having a daughter that clueless must be karma from a past life. She had it coming."
I ignored every last word. My gaze locked onto Clay, and when I spoke, my voice was quiet but edged with a cold that cut to the bone. "Clay. Are you sure you want to take this all the way?"
He stared down at me, chin lifted high, his tone glacial and merciless. "Dorothy, you brought this on yourself. Your mother died because she was shameless. She loved a free ride, faked being sick to scam her way into surgery. That's no one's fault but hers. And you had no right to use her death to curse my mother at her birthday banquet, spreading your bad luck to everyone here."
"If you ask me, your mother deserved to die young for raising an ungrateful, disrespectful daughter like you."
The words had barely left his mouth when the doors to the memorial hall opened with a soft creak.
My mother stood in the doorway, holding a modestly wrapped birthday gift she'd prepared for her mother-in-law. She looked out at the crowded courtyard, then at Clay's contorted, furious face, and blinked in confusion.
"What's going on? Clay, I just got here from the airport. I brought a gift for your mother." She paused, glancing around. "Why does it sound like someone's talking about a death?"
The rage on Clay's face froze solid in an instant, as if every ounce of strength had been ripped from his body. His eyes went wide. He stared at my mother standing in the doorway, his mouth opening and closing, unable to produce a single sound. He looked like he'd seen a ghost.
The guests hadn't noticed Clay's reaction yet. They were too busy sizing up my plainly dressed mother, their faces twisting with disdain and confusion as a fresh wave of murmuring rippled through the crowd.
