"She's younger than me! She's younger than me, and she's wearing Mom's — is that Mom's chair she's sitting in?"
Amber stood up, embarrassed. "I should go."
"Yeah. You should."
After she left, Elena unleashed three years of grief disguised as rage.
"Mom's been dead for three years and you're already — with a child? What is she, twenty?"
"Twenty-two. And she's not a child."
"She's a gold digger, Dad. Wake up. She sees your house, your car, your bank account. That's all."
"You don't know her."