The chill of the evening air made Helena instinctively shrink back, retreating until she was standing firmly beside her husband, Malcom.
"You're slinging mud!" Mr. Anderson's face flushed with anger.
"If we're slinging mud, where did all the stuff from grandma's room disappear to? Can you explain that?!" Helena shot back, her voice rising above the commotion.
"Enough with the racket!" Cory, who was usually quiet outside of the home, furrowed his brow in disapproval. His voice wasn't loud, but the room fell silent in an instant.
"The old lady just passed away. If you're after her estate, at least wait until she's been laid to rest. Not even a day has passed. What kind of heart do you all have? Do you want her to rest in peace or not?" Felix stood in the back, flanked by two burly men, solid as a brick wall.
"Mrs. Silverman, what is this about? If you're here to pay your respects, we welcome you, but if you're here to stir up trouble..."d2
Malcom, Helena's husband, immediately puffed up, ready to defend his turf.
The relatives behind him were pulling at his sleeve.
This was Wayne's wife, after all. The loose change that fell from their pockets could keep them fed for a lifetime.
They couldn't afford to offend her, not when they had the chance to meet her in person.
With so many in the family, what was Brisa's little bit of leftover going to amount to? Better to cling to this lifeline!
"Seems to me you're the ones looking for trouble," Rosalynn's voice turned icy.
Seeing this, Helena quickly gestured, "Ma'am, please, there are children present! Let's not frighten them. My husband is just too grieved. He was especially close to Brisa!"
"Felix, call some folks over from Steinberg," Rosalynn said dismissively, paying no mind to the others. "From now on, anyone who dares disturb Brisa's funeral will have to answer to me, Rosalynn!"
Her presence was commanding.
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