She just called her own granddaughter a bastard in front of the entire Valez, and possible some social elites in NYC.
Fine. If that’s the story they wanted to tell, then I’d write the ending myself.
My daughter would never be someone’s shame.
Archie shifted, looking like he might finally grow a spine. “Mom, you don’t have to—”
Betty touched his arm, just a soft press of her fingers, and that was all it took. He shrank back, said nothing. Stayed silent like he always did when it counted most.
I turned to Sally and smiled—slow, razor-edged.
“Alright then,” I said sweetly. “Elly will be mine alone. From this day forward, she’ll have no ties to the Valez name.”
I looked down at the little girl in my arms—her eyes so bright, so trusting. “Baby,” I said softly, brushing a curl from her cheek, “from now on, we’ll call Daddy ‘Mr. Valez,’ okay? Because he… well, daddy died today.”
Her lips parted. “Mommy…”
“You!” Sally’s voice cracked like a whip. “Did you just curse my son died?”
I blinked, playing innocent. “Oh no. Of course not. I’d never do such a thing. I’m just… trying to explain things in a way a child can understand.” I winked at Elly, planting a kiss on her warm cheek. “Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”
Archie stood three steps away, arms at his sides, eyebrows drawn tight. Torn? Maybe. But if he truly cared, he wouldn’t have let his mother humiliate us. His silence was louder than any slap.
I turned toward the door. I’d heard what I needed to hear. That my daughter no longer had a father. That we were never welcome. Message received.
But before I reached the threshold, Betty’s syrupy voice called after me.
“Sabrina?”
I paused.
“I heard Archie gave you the family heirloom. The diamond necklace. You know, when you had Elly. Since we’re getting married, I thought… maybe you’d give it back?”
I didn’t turn.
She went on. “I’d like to wear it at the wedding. And since you’re no longer going to be a Valez, it just makes more sense for me to have it.”
