Chapter 6 - Forty-Three Thousand Seven Hundred EightyMarcus stared at the photograph.
“No.”
“You recognize the number?”
“My second surgery.”
Callum sat across from him.
“What?”
After the accident, Marcus needed reconstructive surgery.
Insurance approved a supplemental payment.
$43,780.
The money went to Calder Mechanical because Walter had fronted the original workers’ compensation costs.
Marcus never received the surgery.
“They told us insurance denied it.”
Callum felt sick.
“Did my parents get the money?”
Marcus shrugged.
“I never knew.”
Diane’s ledger did.
One line.
Insurance recovery — M. Reed — $43,780.
Then beneath it:
Transfer to family contingency.
Callum stared.
His “debt” had never been a debt.
It was a number his parents needed remembered.
A stolen obligation transformed into his guilt.
Marcus whispered, “Your father kept my surgery money?”
Callum looked up.
“I think so.”
For the first time, Marcus looked angry at Callum.
Not because Callum caused the accident.
Because he carried Walter’s last name.
Fair.
Callum said, “I’ll help you get every record.”
“You don't owe me.”
“My family does.”
“That isn’t the same sentence.”
Callum stopped.
Marcus continued.
“You keep trying to inherit guilt because they taught you everything is inherited.”
That hurt.
It was also true.
At home, Sadie asked for a cookie.
Then froze halfway toward the jar.
Callum waited.
Her hand withdrew.
“I already had one.”
“You can have another.”
She stared.
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“How much?”
“Nothing.”
She took the cookie.
Broke it in half.
Put half back.
Callum did not force her to take it.
Progress could not be demanded either.
Then his phone rang.
Walter.
“Your mother told me you found the Reed entry.”
Callum's jaw tightened.
“Did you take Marcus’s insurance money?”
Silence.
“Dad.”
Walter said, “The company was three weeks from missing payroll.”
Callum closed his eyes.
There.
Not denial.
“We had forty-two employees.”
“So you stole from one.”
“I kept forty-two families eating.”
“And you made me think it was my fault.”
“That part was Diane.”
Callum went still.
“What?”
Walter exhaled.
“I wanted to tell you the accident was mine.”
“Then why didn't you?”
“Your mother said if you knew, you'd testify.”
Callum could not speak.
Walter continued.
“She said one guilty son was easier to control than forty unemployed men.”
Then he hung up.
Callum looked toward Sadie.
One guilty child.
One guilty son.
Same rule.
Different price.
The next chapters are on the left side of your screen.
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