PART 4
Maybe because I had spent five years being told I was the problem.
Maybe because I’d already cried every tear I had left.
Or maybe because some part of me had known this day would come.
I looked at Vivian.
“Where is Dad’s old desk?”
She blinked.
“What?”
“His desk.”
“You don’t need to know that.”
“Where is it?”
Vivian looked away.
Brielle answered.
“It’s in the basement.”
I turned toward Corinne.
“That’s where we found the first clue.”
Harold nodded.
“Then we should go downstairs.”
Vivian stepped in front of the staircase.
“No one is going into my basement.”
June laughed softly.
“Vivian, you’ve spent five years telling everyone this house belonged to you.”
She looked at June.
“It does.”
June’s expression hardened.
“Then why did Richard’s property taxes keep being paid from an account in Mallory’s name?”
Vivian went completely still.
Brielle turned toward her.
“What?”
I looked at June.
“You knew about that?”
June nodded.
“Your father told me about it two months before he died.”
Vivian’s eyes flashed.
“You’ve been spying on me?”
“No,” June said. “I was listening when your husband asked me to.”
That stopped everyone.
I stared at June.
“What did Dad tell you?”
June looked at me for a long moment.
Then she reached inside her purse.
She pulled out a small envelope.
It was yellowed with age.
My name was written on the front.
Mallory.
My hands started shaking.
“Why didn’t you give me this before?”
“Because your father made me promise not to.”
I swallowed.
“Until when?”
“Until you were ready.”
I stared at her.
“And now?”
“Now you’re ready.”
I took the envelope.
There was no stamp.
No address.
Just my name.
My father’s handwriting.
I knew it immediately.
The same handwriting that had appeared on Christmas cards every year.
The same handwriting that had signed permission slips when I was a child.
The same handwriting I had once thought I’d never see again.
I couldn’t open it.
Not yet.
Instead, I turned to Vivian.
“Did you know about this?”
She didn’t answer.
That was answer enough.
Brielle looked at her.
“Mom?”
Vivian’s voice became defensive.
“Your father was sick. He wasn’t thinking clearly.”
Harold suddenly spoke.
“Richard was thinking more clearly than anyone in this room.”
Vivian glared at him.
“You have no right.”
“I have every right.”
Harold removed another document from his folder.
“This is the original partnership agreement.”
He handed it to Corinne.
She opened it.
“This company was established in 2003.”
I frowned.
“What company?”
Harold looked at me.
“Hartley Development Group.”
Brielle stared at him.
“Dad never owned a development company.”
“He did.”
“My mother would know.”
Harold looked at Vivian.
“Would she?”
Vivian’s silence was deafening.
Corinne turned a page.
“Your father owned sixty percent.”
I looked at her.
“Sixty percent of what?”
“Of the company.”
“How much was it worth?”
Corinne paused.
“Today?”
I nodded.
“Approximately eleven million dollars.”
Brielle gasped.
Vivian said nothing.
The neighbors outside began whispering.
I suddenly understood why my mother had wanted this reunion to be a spectacle.
She had thought she would be humiliating me.
She had no idea she was standing inside a story that was about to become public for an entirely different reason.
I looked at Vivian.
“Where did the money go?”
One Comment on “PART 4”