Chapter 6 - THE FAMILY STARTED CHOOSING SIDES
Grief had once made everyone bring casseroles.
Money made them bring opinions.
Within a week, my aunt called to tell me Richard was “under tremendous stress.”
My cousin wanted to know whether I really intended to “force Grandma Bellamy’s properties into court.”
Ethan’s attorney sent Marcus a letter accusing me of destabilizing the business.
Richard’s lawyer demanded that I return confidential company documents Noah had supposedly obtained improperly.
We returned nothing without establishing ownership first.
Meanwhile, the bruising on my cheek turned yellow.
I went back to work at the middle school where I served as a counselor because staying home made Noah’s absence too loud.
On Tuesday, I opened my office door and found one of my eighth graders sitting outside after a fight with her mother.
“She keeps saying I’m dramatic,” the girl told me. “So now I don’t know if something is actually wrong or if I’m making it wrong.”
I heard myself tell her, “Someone else being uncomfortable with your boundary doesn’t make your boundary unreasonable.”
Then I sat alone after she left and nearly laughed at the irony.
That afternoon Marcus confirmed something important.
My family had not legally transferred all my partnership interests away.
Distributions had been manipulated through management allocations, loans between related entities, and questionable amendments, but part of my economic interest still existed.
Which meant Richard had not erased me.
He had treated my silence as consent.
There was a difference.
The problem was that correcting it would hurt more than Richard.
Bellamy Commercial Holdings employed thirty-seven people.
Several properties had outside investors.
If lenders declared defaults because of inaccurate collateral representations, innocent employees and partners could suffer.
Marcus leaned back.
“You need to decide what you actually want.”
“The truth.”
“That’s not a remedy.”
He was right.
Did I want money?
Control?
My original interests restored?
Richard prosecuted?
Ethan ruined?
The house sold?
For the first time, I understood how easily justice could turn into revenge if I never defined the difference.
That evening, Karla called.
I almost ignored her.
“Audrey, please don’t hang up.”
“Why?”
“Because Ethan is lying to everybody.”
“You filmed my father hitting me.”
“I know.”
“You laughed.”
Silence.
“I know.”
“Then give me one reason to stay on this call.”
She exhaled.
“Because Ethan told me the Mercedes wasn’t really about the Mercedes.”
I stood from my kitchen table.
“What was it about?”
“He thought Noah left papers in the trunk.”
My pulse changed.
“Why?”
“Because Richard told him Noah took originals from the office the night he died.”
I looked toward my parking garage.
I had searched Noah’s files.
I had not searched the car carefully since getting it back.
Karla continued.
“Ethan was supposed to get to the Mercedes before you left the house.”
The driveway suddenly looked different in my memory.
Richard hitting me.
Ethan waiting for the purse to fall.
Karla filming.
They had humiliated me.
May you like
But somebody had also been searching for something.
And Noah might have died believing the only safe place to put it was inside the gift he had bought for me.
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