ARIA

"Aria, wait." My mother's voice is small and desperate. "Please. Can we talk?"

"No."

"But sweetheart, you don't understand—"

"I understand perfectly. You chose money over me. All of you did." I look around the table. "You have your inheritance now. That's what you should get. Consider it your payment for destroying any relationship we might have had."

"You self-righteous bitch," Emma hisses. "You think you're so much better than us, so morally superior. But you're ...