"Right," I said. "Apparently I'm so unstable I still paid her bills and cooked dinner the night she announced she was engaged."
"She said you abused her emotionally," she whispered, almost to herself.
"Ask the cops who were here that night," I said calmly. "They told her to leave after she admitted she was engaged to another guy."
I didn't even raise my voice. For a long minute, she didn't speak. Then she sighed and set the papers down.
"I knew she was lying about something. She's always been like this, since she was a teenager. She lies when she's scared or when she wants something."
I didn't answer, just let her talk.
"When she was 16," Doris continued, "she dated two boys at once, told each one the other was her cousin. We grounded her for a week, and she cried until her father gave in. He always gave in. We both did." She rubbed her temples. "We made her believe she could twist reality and people would adjust."
I stayed quiet. There wasn't anything to add.
Finally, she reached into her purse and pulled out an envelope. "This is from her father and me," she said, sliding it across the table. "5,000. It's not everything she cost you, but consider it an apology."
I looked at it, but didn't touch it. "You don't have to do that."
"I do," she said. "We raised her. We let her think this behavior was acceptable. We need to take responsibility for it."
After a moment, I took the envelope and tucked it under the folder. "Thank you."
She looked relieved, then leaned forward. "Between us, Landon's already having doubts. He came by the house last night, yelling about her draining his account. Apparently, she keeps asking him to pay for a new apartment. He didn't know she had nowhere to go until she called from the police station about the car."
I almost smiled. "So, he's realizing she's a freeloader?"
"She's a handful," Doris admitted. "He looked like a ghost, said she spends more time on Instagram than job hunting."
"That sounds about right," I said.
Doris finally took a sip of her coffee, staring at me over the rim. "You're very calm about all this."
"I'm done with the circus," I said. "I just want peace and my car back."
That earned a quiet laugh, the first real one from her. "You remind me of my husband. He's furious at her, but trying to handle it quietly. I think seeing her crash might be what finally wakes him up, too."