“Say no again, and I’ll break another plate over your head until my mother gets your apartment and her twelve hundred a month.”

Claire met Genesis at a coffee shop in Encino because neither woman trusted the other enough to meet in a home.

Genesis arrived twelve minutes late, wearing dark glasses despite the cloudy morning. She did not apologize for the dinner or ask about the stitches.

She placed a leather-bound planner on the table.

“Jackson says you’ve frozen the company financing.”

“Jackson used my income and property without permission.”

“He said you were willing.”

“He lied.”

Genesis removed her glasses.

Without the controlled lighting of her dining room, she looked older. There were gray crescents beneath her eyes and a faint tremor in her left hand.

“You told him I should stop depending on company distributions,” Genesis said.

“I told him we needed boundaries around our household account.”

“He said you offered the condo so I could sell Hidden Hills without being displaced.”

“I never offered you anything.”

Genesis’s mouth tightened.

“For eight months, he’s been preparing me to leave my home.”

The sentence carried more injury than anger.

Jackson had arranged for contractors to postpone repairs. He had told Genesis not to replace a failing air-conditioning unit because a buyer would renovate anyway. He had persuaded her to box her late husband’s office and donate half his clothes.

Genesis had believed Claire wanted the arrangement handled discreetly to avoid family gossip.

“That’s why you hated me,” Claire said.

“I believed you were making decisions about my life through my son.”

“And instead of asking me, you gathered twenty people to pressure me.”

Genesis looked toward the window.

“I thought you were backing out after forcing me to prepare.”

Claire almost stood and left.

Then she remembered Genesis’s words after the plate.

You told me she had already agreed.

“You knew Jackson planned to demand the condo at dinner.”

“I knew he planned to make you honor your commitment.”

“There was no commitment.”

Genesis pressed both palms against the planner.

“The company needed the house sale.”

“For what?”

“Two delayed projects. Material costs. Clients who haven’t paid.”

The answer sounded rehearsed.

Claire had heard Jackson give the same explanation in nearly identical language.

“What is the twelve hundred dollars for?”

“My living expenses.”

“Exactly twelve hundred?”

“That’s what Jackson calculated.”

“Where are you supposed to live after the house sells?”

“My condo.”

Genesis’s face hardened. “There’s no need to be cruel.”

Claire leaned closer.

“You watched your son throw a plate at my head because you believed you were entitled to my home. Do not ask me to protect your feelings from the facts.”

Genesis looked away again.

Claire asked about the appraisal Megan had mentioned.

Genesis’s fingers stopped moving.

A man had inspected the Hidden Hills property six weeks earlier. Jackson had called him an estate-planning consultant. He had measured rooms, photographed exterior walls, and asked about outstanding loans.

“That was a lender’s appraiser,” Claire said.

Genesis shook her head.

“The house is paid off.”

“Are you sure?”

“My husband paid it off before he died.”

“Have you seen the statements?”

“Jackson handles the mail.”

Claire sat back.

The coffee between them had gone untouched.