Brittany's champagne glass tipped in her hand. Some of it spilled on her white dress. “Steve,” she said in a high, strange voice. “You said this was your house. You said you owned it outright.”

Dad opened his mouth. Nothing came out.

Sharon, Brittany's mother, pushed through the crowd in her leopard print.

“You told us you owned it!” she shouted at Dad. “You told my daughter you had a paid-off house in Connecticut and money in the bank!”

“I do have... some money in the bank,” Dad said weakly.

Guests were starting to leave. They put their glasses down on tables and edged towards the door, pretending to check their phones.

One older woman stopped beside Mom on her way out. It was Mrs. Patterson from across the street.

“I'm so sorry, Julia,” she said quietly. “We all saw the children working. We should have said something.”

Brittany wasn't finished. She turned to Mom with a desperate, nasty smile.

“Fine,” she said. “Take the kids, then. They can go with you. Steve and I will stay here.” Mom almost laughed.

“No, Brittany,” she said. “That's not how deeds work.”