Chapter 1

My daughter died of an amniotic fluid embolism, and the two families held the funeral together.

At the funeral, Colin Gilbert suddenly pulled out a form.

"Back where our family's from, there's a custom. After the wedding, the bride has to be evaluated too."

"If she fails the evaluation, the full bride gift has to be returned."

A cluster of them stood in front of my daughter's memorial portrait, passing the evaluation form around, talking it over.

"Greedy for food, lazy about work. Points off."

"Infertile. Points off."

"No economic value after marriage. Points off."

In the end, my daughter was rated an "unqualified wife."

Colin announced it in front of everyone. I was to return the full bride gift.

"I know you've treated me like your own son all these years, so I won't ask you for more than I'm owed."

"An eighty-eight-hundred bride gift, plus interest over the years."

"You give me ten thousand total, and we're square."

I looked at my daughter, barely cold in the ground, and felt the blood run backward through my whole body.

Return the bride gift, is it? Fine.

I'd like to see exactly how these accounts get settled!

1.

I threw the evaluation form in Colin's face and shouted.

"Colin, are you even human?"

"My daughter died giving birth, and you're standing at her funeral demanding the bride gift back?"

Shreds of paper drifted down and settled in front of my daughter's portrait.

Colin glanced down and stepped on one of them, pinning it flat.

"Tearing it up won't change anything. This evaluation is what our whole family agreed on. You can't wriggle out of it."

I was shaking with rage, and through my tears I pointed at my daughter's portrait.

"You look at Rachel Acevedo's photo and say that again!"

Colin curled his lip, unbothered.

"Fine, I'll say it. What's there to be afraid of."

"The amniotic fluid embolism was her own body failing. That's got nothing to do with me."

"Everyone else can have a baby safely. Why couldn't she?"

"The baby didn't make it. She didn't either."

"Calling her infertile, is that wrong?"

"You—"

I was trembling with fury, and Cornelia Gilbert threw herself in front of Colin.

"Delia Henson, my son's right, isn't he?"

"The dead don't come back. So because she died, our family's losses just don't count?"

Colin straightened up again and took a fresh stack of bills out of his bag.

He slapped them down on the offering table.

The white sheets spread out and covered my daughter's black-and-white photo.

"You didn't believe me when I said she was lazy."

"Take a good look. See how much money she spent all these married years."

Colin jabbed at the first one.

"One mattress. Nineteen hundred."

"One pair of shoes. Three-twenty."

The last sheet, he slammed down hard on my daughter's photo.

"Deposit for the maternity center. Five thousand!"

"No income after the wedding, and she never blinked at buying anything."

"A woman like that, who could afford to marry her?"

Cornelia immediately pulled out a calculator.

The clicking of the keys wouldn't stop in the funeral hall.

"There's the fruit and the supplements during her pregnancy too. Every one of those should be counted in."

Colin's relatives crowded around, pointing at the bills, muttering among themselves.

I looked at their petty, mercenary faces and my teeth chattered with rage.

"Every one of those things was paid for with my money!"

The room went silent in an instant.

But my eyes went red, and it broke my heart to say it.

"Rachel's back hurt so much she couldn't sleep all night. All I could do was buy her a new mattress."

"And the maternity center was because your mother said she had no time to help with the postpartum month, so I stepped in and booked it!"

"And these shoes! Seven months pregnant, her feet so swollen she couldn't even get her slippers on, and she went a whole month before she let herself buy them!"

"Colin, you keep saying she was unqualified. What did you ever do for her as her husband?"

Colin's eyes flickered away.

"It's all just post-wedding spending anyway. What difference does it make who paid?"

"Of course it makes a difference!"

I shoved Colin all the way up to my daughter's portrait.

"Back then, seeing how badly off your family was, my daughter felt sorry for you."

"Other families ask eighteen thousand eight for a bride gift. She'd only take eighty-eight hundred!"

"The day the bride gift came, we didn't keep a single cent. We added to it out of our own pockets and made it up to two hundred thousand for your renovations!"

I'll never forget it.

That day Colin held the bank card in both hands and knelt in front of all the relatives and called me Mom.

He said from then on he'd honor me like his own mother.

And all these married years, I did treat him like my own son.

When his business failed, I took out my retirement savings to plug the hole.

When he was sick in the hospital, I stayed at his bedside carrying water and bringing him meals.

And now, at my daughter's funeral, he was coming to collect a debt from me!

I hurt so much I couldn't get the words out.

Colin just shook his head, contemptuous.

"I never asked you to be good to me."

"That money was given willingly. You can't pin it on me."

"But the bride gift is my family's, and now the marriage is over, so of course it should come back."

"And the ten thousand has to be in my account before the funeral ends, or don't blame me for taking you to court."

My feet gave under me and I stumbled into the offering table.

My daughter's portrait swayed with it.

I threw out my hands and caught it, and the tears came down all at once.

"Fine. You want to settle accounts."

"Then today I'll settle them with you!"