Chapter 12 - HIS MOTHER’S HANDWRITING
Catherine agreed to another interview after Vanessa surrendered the phone through her attorney.
This time, she came to Leah’s office.
No roses.
No settlement.
She sat with her purse on her knees, looking at the table.
“The letter,” I said.
Her fingers tightened.
“I thought you were leaving.”
“Did I tell you that?”
“No.”
“Then who did?”
“Adrian.”
I waited.
“He said you were frightened about the accounts. He said you wanted to protect your father from embarrassment.”
“So you wrote a confession for me.”
“He asked me to help with the wording.”
My father stood by the window.
He didn’t turn around.
Catherine’s voice shook.
“I didn’t know what he was going to do.”
“What did you think he was doing?”
She opened her mouth.
Closed it.
That was the trouble with saying the truth plainly. There was nowhere comfortable to put it.
Leah leaned forward.
“Why did you give us the storage key?”
Catherine looked at me then.
“Because I saw you in that hospital bed.”
“You heard about the stairs.”
“Yes.”
“You knew he was moving money.”
“I suspected.”
“You kept Daniel’s records.”
“He brought them to me. I told him I would handle it.”
“Did you?”
A tear slid down her cheek.
“I told Adrian to stop.”
“And when he didn’t?”
She had no answer.
For years, Catherine had treated her son’s behavior like a stain she could cover before guests arrived.
Now she was sitting in the room with everything she had covered.
“I thought if I protected him, he’d become better,” she whispered.
“You protected him from the reasons he had to change.”
She bowed her head.
I expected anger to feel loud.
Instead, mine was steady.
“You need to tell investigators all of this.”
“My attorney says—”
“Then listen to your attorney. But don’t come here asking me to make it easier.”
She nodded.
Before leaving, she set a small velvet pouch on the table.
My mother’s earrings.
I had believed I lost them during our last move.
“Adrian gave them to me,” Catherine said. “He said you didn’t want them.”
I opened the pouch.
Tiny gold leaves rested against the lining.
My mother had worn them to my college graduation.
My father finally turned from the window.
He recognized them immediately.
For a moment, grief changed his face more than anger had.
After Catherine left, Leah’s assistant knocked.
A courier had delivered formal papers.
Adrian was seeking to restrict access to disputed assets.
May you like
Attached was a sworn declaration.
He claimed my father and I had planned the entire scheme together.
