Chapter 6 - The Money Was Mine
For a moment, I thought I had misunderstood him.
“My account?”
Dad exhaled.
“The education trust your grandmother left you.”
I stood so quickly my chair scraped backward.
“What?”
James moved closer.
Dad continued.
“You were twenty-four. You had already graduated. There was money left in it.”
“How much?”
“A little over thirty thousand.”
My throat tightened.
“I thought that money was transferred into the down payment account when James and I bought the house.”
“So did I.”
The room seemed to tilt.
“Dad, what are you saying?”
“I’m saying I approved paperwork your mother brought me because she told me you had asked to move the funds.”
“I never asked.”
“I know that now.”
James’s expression hardened.
“Who controlled the trust?” he asked.
Dad heard him.
“Originally my mother. After she died, my wife and I were successor trustees until the children turned twenty-five.”
I was thirty-two.
Lauren thirty-four.
I pressed a hand against the counter.
“You signed a withdrawal?”
“Yes.”
“How much?”
“Twenty-seven thousand five hundred.”
I stopped breathing.
Twenty-five thousand to the Richmond family.
The rest, presumably, to attorneys or expenses.
Mom had not only lied to Dad.
She had used money my grandmother intended for me to protect Lauren from consequences.
“Why didn’t I notice?”
“Because the statements still came to our address.”
“After I moved out?”
“Yes.”
“And then?”
“The account closed when you turned twenty-five.”
“What did Mom tell you?”
“That you wanted the remainder moved into a separate investment account.”
“Did you ever see that account?”
“No.”
“And you never asked me?”
Dad’s voice broke.
“I trusted my wife.”
I closed my eyes.
James took the phone gently.
“Richard, we need copies of everything.”
Dad paused.
“I’ll find them.”
“Don’t destroy or alter anything.”
“I’m not going to.”
“I have to say it.”
“I understand.”
James handed the phone back.
Dad whispered my name.
“Yes?”
“I’m sorry.”
I wanted to accept it.
I wanted to tell him he couldn’t have known.
But another memory stopped me.
Christmas.
Two nights earlier.
Lauren’s hand.
Dad’s silence.
“You didn’t know about the money.”
“No.”
“But you knew what happened to Emma.”
He said nothing.
“I needed you then.”
“I know.”
“You sat there.”
“I know.”
“Why?”
The answer took a long time.
“Because I was afraid your mother would fall apart.”
I laughed bitterly.
“So again, someone else needed to be protected.”
“You’re right.”
That surprised me.
No defense.
No excuse.
Just two words.
“You’re right.”
His voice shook.
“I failed you.”
I sat down again.
“Dad…”
“No. Don’t make it easier for me.”
James looked at me.
My father continued.
“I’ve spent years telling myself keeping quiet was the same thing as keeping peace.”
Uncle David’s words.
Almost exactly.
Dad swallowed.
“It isn’t.”
“No.”
“I’ll send you the trust records.”
“Thank you.”
“And I’m going to ask your mother to leave for a few days.”
I stared ahead.
“What?”
“I need to know what else she has hidden.”
“Dad, don’t do anything unsafe.”
“I won’t.”
“Lauren might come over.”
“I’ll change the garage code.”
James nodded approvingly.
Dad heard the silence.
“James?”
“Yes.”
“I owe you an apology too.”
“You don’t owe me anything tonight.”
“Yes, I do.”
“No.”
James’s voice remained steady.
“Take care of yourself. Get the documents. Don’t confront Lauren alone.”
My father went quiet.
Then:
“Understood.”
It was strange hearing him answer James that way.
Not submissively.
Seriously.
After we hung up, I sat with the revelation.
Twenty-seven thousand five hundred dollars.
Taken from me.
Used to save Lauren.
I tried to feel angry about the money.
Instead, I felt something worse.
Erased.
My grandmother had created those accounts because she believed her grandchildren should begin adulthood with something of their own.
She had been a school librarian for thirty-eight years.
Not rich.
Careful.
She saved slowly.
Birthday checks.
Bonds.
A small inheritance from her sister.
She used to tell me, “Money buys choices, sweetheart. Don’t waste either.”
My mother had taken mine and used it to purchase Lauren freedom from consequences.
I began crying quietly.
James sat beside me.
“I don’t care about the money.”
“I know.”
“That’s what makes me so angry.”
“I know.”
“It’s what it meant.”
“I know.”
He didn’t say more.
He didn’t need to.
That afternoon Dad emailed copies of seven documents.
The withdrawal form.
Bank statements.
A cashier’s check.
A letter from a law office.
The name of the Richmond family appeared nowhere.
Only an attorney.
Daniel C. Ross, Esquire.
The memo line on the cashier’s check read:
Confidential Civil Resolution.
I stared at it.
“Could we find out what this was about?”
James shook his head.
“Not by pretending we’re entitled to sealed information.”
“So that’s it?”
“No.”
He tapped the letter.
“We can give this to our attorney.”
The final page was the most disturbing.
It was a handwritten note attached to the file.
My mother’s handwriting.
Three lines.
Lauren understands this is the last time.
No more incidents.
Keep this from Richard.
I read the first line again.
Lauren understands this is the last time.
Not the first.
The last.
“James.”
“I see it.”
“Richmond wasn’t the beginning.”
“No.”
My phone rang again.
Unknown number.
I almost ignored it.
Something made me answer.
“Hello?”
A woman spoke.
“Is this Lauren Bennett’s sister?”
My maiden name.
“Yes.”
“My name is Megan Price.”
The name meant nothing to me.
“I’m sorry to contact you like this.”
“Who are you?”
“I used to know Lauren.”
I sat straighter.
“When?”
“Richmond.”
James moved closer.
Megan continued.
“I saw the video your uncle posted.”
My heart stopped.
“What video?”
“He didn’t post it publicly. Someone sent it to someone who sent it to me.”
My stomach sank.
So much for containment.
“What do you want?”
“I don’t want anything.”
Her voice shook.
“I just need to know whether the baby is okay.”
I looked toward the nursery.
“She’s okay.”
The woman exhaled.
“Thank God.”
“Why are you calling me?”
A long pause.
“Because eight years ago, everybody was told that little girl fell off a chair.”
I stopped moving.
“That isn’t what happened.”
James heard.
His face changed.
“What happened?”
May you like
Megan’s next sentence made the room disappear around me.
“Lauren shoved her.”
