your family--"
She turned her dark, blistering eyes toward
Paul's portrait, and those eyes softened. "I'm doing
this for my son," she said, gazing up at him with more
than a mother's love. "Look how he smiles, how
beautiful he is and how happy he is. Pearl will grow
up here, under that portrait. At least he'll have that.
You," she said, pointing her long, thin finger at me
again, "took everything else from him, even his life." Beau looked at me desperately and then turned
back to her. "Madame Tate," he said, "if it's a matter
of the inheritance, we're prepared to sign any
document."
"What?" She sprang up. "You think this is all a
matter of money? Money? My son is dead." She
pulled up her shoulders and pursed her lips. "This
discussion is over. I want you out" of my house and
out of our lives."
"You won't succeed with this. A judge--" "I have lawyers. Talk to them." She smiled at
me so coldly, it made my blood curdle. "You put on
your sister's face and body and you crawled into her
heart. Now live there," she cursed, and left the room. Right down to my feet, I ached, and my heart
became a hollow ball shooting pains through my
chest. "Beau!"
"Let's go," he said, shaking his head. "She's
gone mad. The judge will realize that. Come on,
Ruby." He reached for me. I felt like I floated to my
feet.
Just before we left the room, I gazed back at
Paul's portrait. His expression of satisfaction put a
darkness in my heart that a thousand days of sunshine