been proud.
Maybe he didn’t want to acknowledge that his son was supporting him financially.
So I continued sending the money without mentioning it.
Month after month.
Until the total reached $72,000.
And now, sitting at my father’s birthday dinner, I discovered that not one payment had reached its intended destination.
Dad turned toward Khloe.
“Where is the money?”
She rubbed her forehead.
“I told you. It’s complicated.”
I stared at her.
“Complicated how?”
“I was trying to make things better.”
“By keeping seventy-two thousand dollars?”
Her eyes filled with tears.
“You always assume the worst about me, Lucas.”
I almost laughed.
For years, Khloe had been the one person my father never questioned.
Now that someone had finally demanded an explanation, she was acting like the victim.
I stood up.
“I’m not going to argue about this tonight.”
Dad looked stunned.
“Lucas—”
“I have the records. Every single
