"What are you screaming about?"
"Fine, I'll delete it. But only if you transfer the company shares to Desmond."
I stared at my daughter's flushed face, searching for even a trace of guilt. There was nothing.
I shook my head, defeated, and took the baby back from my husband's arms, rocking her gently.
"Summer, your father and I have told you a hundred times. When we're gone, the company will be yours."
"And Desmond is already the general manager. Now he wants the shares too? Don't you think that's a little greedy?"
Summer crossed her arms and looked at me sideways.
"You two always know how to make yourselves sound good."
"That general manager title is a joke. Every decision, big or small, still has to go through Dad. What kind of general manager is that?"
"You keep saying 'when we're dead, it'll all be yours.' What if I die before you? Who am I supposed to take it up with then?"
"What, am I supposed to wait underground for you to burn it all down to me?"
My mouth hung open. I couldn't believe those words had come out of her mouth.
My husband was shaking with rage, his finger pointed at her, but not a single word came out.
She glanced at the two of us. Maybe even she realized she'd gone too far, because she cleared her throat:
"Anyway, I need to head over to my mother-in-law's. She's had a cold the last couple days, and I should take care of her."
As she spoke, she packed up all the breakfast on the table:
"There's too much here for just the two of you. I'll bring it over and eat with my in-laws."
"Let me know when you've made up your minds, and I'll delete the video."
Then she left, breakfast in hand.
I looked down at my granddaughter in my arms, and my nose stung with the threat of tears.
Before she met Desmond, Summer had always been such a good girl.
Then she came back from studying abroad and met him. No car, no house, no savings, and yet she insisted he was the only one she'd marry.
Even if it meant squeezing into a cramped five-hundred-square-foot apartment with Desmond's parents, Summer was willing.
When we refused, she threw fits. She cried, she screamed, she even stopped eating.
We had no choice. We gave in.
There was no bride price. Afraid our daughter would suffer, we put up a million-dollar dowry ourselves, bought them a luxury condo downtown, and paid for the entire wedding out of our own pockets.