Page 5 — The Collapse: Denial, Rage, Bargaining… Then The Numbers
Ryan pivoted instantly.
Not to accountability—never that.
To pleading.
“Honey,” he whined, using the pet name he hadn’t used in months. “We can fix this. I’ll put the office back. I’ll move Mom to a hotel. Just… don’t do this.”
“It’s not about the desk,” I said. “It’s about what the desk helped me see.”
His eyes narrowed. “What are you talking about?”
I looked him dead in the face and delivered the part he couldn’t charm away.
“It’s about the money.”
He tried to interrupt.
I didn’t let him.
