Chapter 13 - Brooke’s First Lie
I called Brooke.
She became silent too quickly.
“What did Arthur mean?”
“He’s lying.”
“Not entirely.”
Silence.
“Brooke.”
She sighed.
“I knew who you were before you emailed.”
“How?”
“Noah found your engagement photos online.”
“That doesn’t explain contacting me.”
“I didn’t contact you.”
“Did someone contact you about me?”
Another silence.
Then:
“Yes.”
“Who?”
“Your grandmother’s attorney.”
I stood.
“Samuel?”
“No.”
“Another one.”
A woman named Ruth Mercer.
Grandmother Elena’s sister.
I barely remembered her.
Ruth had contacted Brooke months before I discovered Arthur’s marriage.
Why?
Because Grandmother’s old trust documents required periodic review of anyone receiving controlling access through family marriage.
Arthur had appeared in corporate filings.
Ruth started digging.
Found Brooke.
Found the marriage.
Then found me.
But instead of contacting me directly, she contacted Brooke.
Why?
“She wanted to see whether you’d discover it yourself.”
I laughed in disbelief.
“Apparently women in my family love tests.”
Brooke apologized.
“I should have told you.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“Because by the time you contacted me, you were already doing the work.”
“I didn’t want you thinking I was part of some family setup.”
“You were.”
“Not intentionally.”
“Still.”
Another hidden hand.
Another older relative deciding what truth I could handle and when.
I found Ruth Mercer.
Seventy-eight.
Retired attorney.
Sharp as glass.
She invited me to tea.
I almost refused because the sentence sounded too much like my mother.
I went anyway.
She admitted everything.
“Elena believed Thomas would eventually misuse control.”
“Why not stop him earlier?”
“She loved her daughter.”
“My mother?”
“Yes.”
“She hoped Diane would restrain him.”
“She didn’t.”
“No.”
“Why did you wait to tell me?”
Ruth looked at me.
“Because Elena’s final instruction said Eleanor must choose whether she wants the company.”
“You all keep deciding my choices need tests.”
She accepted the criticism.
“Fair.”
Then handed me an envelope.
Grandmother’s final letter.
Eleanor,
If you ever uncover Thomas’s fraud, do not automatically take Vance Crest back.
Ask whether you actually want it.
I stared.
Even dead, Grandmother still understood me better than Dad.
The letter continued.
If you want the company, fight for it.
If you do not, do not let revenge trick you into inheriting a prison.
I sat quietly.
That was the question beneath everything.
Did I want Vance Crest?
May you like
Or did I only want the people who stole it to lose?
Those are not the same thing.
