Chapter 4 - My Father’s VersionMy father dismissed the guards.
That frightened me more than if he had kept them.
“Office,” he said.
“No.”
His eyebrows lifted.
Victor Hayes wasn’t accustomed to hearing that word.
Especially from his sons.
“We’re discussing this privately.”
“We can discuss it here.”
Dad glanced at the security camera.
Then at Andrew.
“Leave us.”
Andrew didn’t move.
Dad’s voice sharpened.
“I said leave.”
Andrew looked at me.
For the first time in our lives, he answered our father the way I should have years earlier.
“No.”
Dad stared at him.
Something cold passed across his face.
“All right.”
He straightened his jacket.
“So she found you.”
“I found her.”
“Same result.”
I clenched my jaw.
“You told me she was dead.”
Dad sighed.
“Daniel, you were a child.”
“You held my hand beside a coffin.”
“I did what I believed was necessary.”
“For who?”
“For you.”
I laughed.
The sound shocked even me.
“You destroyed my mother for me?”
“You don’t know what she was like.”
“She told me.”
“Of course she did.”
Dad’s face hardened.
“Margaret always knew how to make herself the victim.”
Andrew stepped forward.
“Was she alive during the funeral?”
Dad looked at him.
“This doesn’t concern you.”
“That means yes.”
I felt sick.
“Why?”
Dad turned toward me.
“Because your mother was unstable.”
“She was committed by your friend.”
“Dr. Greer was respected.”
“He lied.”
“You have her version.”
“And the letters.”
For the first time, Dad’s composure cracked.
“What letters?”
I saw it.
Fear.
Tiny.
But real.
“Interesting question.”
Dad folded his arms.
“Daniel, your mother disappeared voluntarily.”
“After you threatened her.”
“She left you.”
“She tried to contact me.”
“And where is she now?”
His cruelty came smoothly.
“Outside grocery stores begging strangers for food.”
I took one step toward him.
Andrew grabbed my arm.
Dad didn’t move.
“That’s who you’re choosing over your family?”
“She is my family.”
“She abandoned you.”
“You erased her.”
“I protected you!”
His voice echoed through the basement.
I stared at him.
He realized too late that he had shouted.
“Protected me from what?”
Dad breathed slowly.
“From chaos.”
“What about Bennett Supply?”
The color left his face.
Just slightly.
Andrew noticed too.
Dad recovered.
“An old vendor.”
“Owned by who?”
“I don’t remember.”
“That’s funny.”
I stepped closer.
“Mom remembers.”
Dad’s mouth tightened.
“What has she told you?”
There it was.
Not “What lies has she told you?”
What has she told you?
I smiled bitterly.
“You’re scared.”
“Of Margaret?”
“Of what she remembers.”
Dad leaned toward me.
“Listen carefully.”
His voice became quiet.
“If you drag this family through scandal because a broken woman filled your head with stories, everything you built will disappear.”
“Is that a threat?”
“It’s reality.”
Andrew spoke.
“Dad, unlock the archive.”
Dad turned.
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because I said so.”
Andrew laughed once.
“I’m thirty-four.”
“And still behaving like a child.”
Dad looked back at me.
“You have a board meeting tomorrow morning.”
“I know.”
“Come without her.”
“I wasn’t planning to bring my mother to a corporate meeting.”
“Good.”
Dad walked toward the elevator.
Then stopped.
“One more thing.”
He turned.
“Keep Noah away from Margaret.”
I felt something inside me change.
“Don’t say my son’s name.”
“She is unstable.”
“My son gave her four oranges.”
Dad looked confused.
“That’s how I found her.”
For once, Victor Hayes had no answer.
“You spent millions controlling people,” I said. “And an eight-year-old ruined thirty-two years of lies with four oranges.”
His jaw tightened.
“Be careful, Daniel.”
“No.”
I stepped toward him.
“You be careful.”
The elevator doors closed behind him.
Andrew exhaled.
“That went well.”
I looked at the locked archive.
“Can you get in another way?”
He nodded.
“Maybe.”
“Do it.”
When I returned to the guesthouse, Mom was standing at the kitchen counter.
She had showered.
Marcus’s sister had brought clothing.
For the first time, I could see the woman beneath the years of hardship.
Older.
Exhausted.
But unmistakably my mother.
Noah sat at the table drawing.
He held up a picture.
“Look, Dad.”
Three stick figures stood beneath an orange tree.
ME.
DAD.
GRANDMA.
Mom turned away quickly.
I knew she was crying.
I walked toward her.
“I saw him.”
Her shoulders stiffened.
“You confronted Victor?”
“Yes.”
“That was dangerous.”
“He admitted enough.”
“Admitted what?”
“He said he protected me.”
Her laugh was bitter.
“That was always his favorite word.”
I told her about Bennett Supply.
She became very still.
“Andrew remembered your letter.”
Her eyes widened.
“He got it?”
“Yes.”
Mom sat down.
“I thought Victor intercepted it.”
“He did eventually.”
“But Andrew saw it.”
“Yes.”
She closed her eyes.
“Then maybe there’s hope.”
“For what?”
“For the truth.”
She looked toward Noah.
“Bennett Supply wasn’t just a fake vendor.”
“What was it?”
“It was how Victor stole the company.”
I stared at her.
“What do you mean?”
“Your grandfather’s will didn’t give Victor full ownership.”
My stomach tightened.
“What did it say?”
“Half the shares were supposed to go into a trust.”
“For who?”
Mom looked directly at me.
“You.”
I stopped breathing.
“Victor forged documents showing the trust had been dissolved.”
“No.”
“He moved company money through Bennett Supply and used it to buy shares that should never have been available.”
I sat down.
“How much?”
“By the time I discovered it?”
Her voice hardened.
“Millions.”
“And the proof?”
“I gave copies to someone.”
“Who?”
“A company bookkeeper.”
“Name?”
“Rose Bennett.”
I stared.
“Bennett Supply.”
Mom nodded.
“Victor created the fake vendor using Rose’s maiden name because he thought nobody would connect it to her.”
“Is she alive?”
Mom lowered her eyes.
“Rose died twelve years ago.”
My hope collapsed.
“But before she died,” Mom continued, “she contacted me.”
I leaned forward.
“She told me she still had something Victor never found.”
“What?”
“A ledger.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know.”
Mom reached for her locket.
“She sent me one clue.”
She opened the locket.
Then pressed her fingernail beneath the photograph of me.
The backing lifted.
Hidden underneath was a tiny folded piece of paper.
She handed it to me.
One address was written on it.
And beneath the address were three words.
ASK FOR ELEANOR.
I read it twice.
“Who’s Eleanor?”
Mom shook her head.
“I’ve spent twelve years trying to find out.”
My phone rang.
Andrew.
I answered.
His voice was breathless.
“Daniel, I got into the archive.”
I stood.
“Did you find Bennett Supply?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
Silence.
“Andrew?”
His voice dropped.
“You need to come here.”
“Why?”
“Because there’s a second file.”
My pulse accelerated.
“What file?”
“It has Mom’s name on it.”
I gripped the phone.
“What’s inside?”
Andrew whispered the answer.
“Payments.”
“To who?”
“Dr. Greer.”
My mother covered her mouth.
Andrew continued.
“And Daniel…”
May you like
“What?”
“The payments never stopped after she disappeared.”
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