"What's the problem?" Clay roared. The viciousness in his eyes was barely contained. "Her daughter dared to curse my mother. This is the consequence. Do what I said. If anything comes of it, I'll take full responsibility."
The bodyguard didn't dare refuse again. He rolled up his sleeves and started toward the memorial hall. The guests around me pointed and whispered, their voices grating and relentless.
"Dorothy's completely lost it. Touching Dr. Farley's sore spot like that. Everyone knows he worships his mother. She's got a death wish."
"No kidding. Old Mrs. Farley raised those two all by herself. Dr. Farley treats her like she's made of glass. And Dorothy goes and curses her mother-in-law at her own birthday banquet? Disgraceful doesn't begin to cover it."
"No wonder her mother died. Having a daughter that clueless must be karma from a past life. She had it coming."
I ignored every last word. My gaze locked onto Clay, and when I spoke, my voice was quiet but edged with a cold that cut to the bone. "Clay. Are you sure you want to take this all the way?"
He stared down at me, chin lifted high, his tone glacial and merciless. "Dorothy, you brought this on yourself. Your mother died because she was shameless. She loved a free ride, faked being sick to scam her way into surgery. That's no one's fault but hers. And you had no right to use her death to curse my mother at her birthday banquet, spreading your bad luck to everyone here."
"If you ask me, your mother deserved to die young for raising an ungrateful, disrespectful daughter like you."
The words had barely left his mouth when the doors to the memorial hall opened with a soft creak.
My mother stood in the doorway, holding a modestly wrapped birthday gift she'd prepared for her mother-in-law. She looked out at the crowded courtyard, then at Clay's contorted, furious face, and blinked in confusion.
"What's going on? Clay, I just got here from the airport. I brought a gift for your mother." She paused, glancing around. "Why does it sound like someone's talking about a death?"
The rage on Clay's face froze solid in an instant, as if every ounce of strength had been ripped from his body. His eyes went wide. He stared at my mother standing in the doorway, his mouth opening and closing, unable to produce a single sound. He looked like he'd seen a ghost.