Chapter 3 - THE RULES KEVIN NEVER KNEW HE WAS BREAKING
The folder came from Claire’s estate attorney, Rebecca Sloan.
Kevin called her at eight the next morning.
She agreed to meet immediately.
Annie remained at the mansion.
Not because Kevin had apologized properly.
He hadn’t.
Because the twins refused breakfast unless she stayed in the kitchen.
Kevin hated that fact.
He hated more that it was his own fault.
At Rebecca’s office, he placed Claire’s folder on the table.
Rebecca looked at it and became very still.
“You opened the drawer.”
“Yes.”
“I wondered when you would.”
Kevin leaned forward.
“You knew?”
“Claire asked me not to push you.”
“Why?”
“She knew you.”
That answer was beginning to irritate him.
Apparently everyone had known him except himself.
Rebecca opened the folder.
Inside was a written family-care plan Claire had prepared with the twins’ pediatric therapist.
It had no bizarre legal power over Kevin’s parenting.
It was guidance.
Specific guidance.
Continue grief counseling for at least twelve months.
Do not remove Claire’s personal belongings all at once.
Do not discourage the twins from sleeping with transitional items connected to her.
Avoid introducing a romantic partner as a substitute maternal figure during the acute grief period.
Maintain regular contact with Claire’s sister, Mara.
Kevin stopped.
“We stopped therapy after three months.”
Rebecca looked up.
“I know.”
“Who told you?”
“Dr. Ellis.”
Kevin felt irritation turn into suspicion.
“My mother said the therapist thought the boys were adjusting well.”
Rebecca shook her head.
“That isn’t what Claire arranged.”
Kevin thought of Margaret Vale.
Sixty-eight.
Elegant.
Efficient.
Chair of the Vale Family Foundation.
The woman who had moved into the mansion for six weeks after Claire died and restructured everything.
Meals.
Staff.
The twins’ schedules.
Kevin’s calendar.
His mother had told him routine would save them.
Kevin had believed her because he desperately wanted saving to resemble organization.
Rebecca continued.
“Dr. Ellis recommended ongoing monthly check-ins.”
“Why did they stop?”
“You cancelled them.”
“I never did.”
Rebecca turned her laptop toward him.
An email had been sent from Kevin’s family-office account.
Effective immediately, discontinue the twins’ grief sessions. We believe continued focus on loss is impeding adjustment.
Signed:
Kevin Vale.
Kevin stared.
“That isn’t mine.”
“The address is.”
“My mother’s office has access.”
Rebecca did not speculate.
“Then ask.”
Kevin remembered something else.
Within weeks of ending therapy, Claire’s clothes disappeared from the bedroom closet.
Margaret had arranged donation pickups.
Kevin signed off.
Or thought he had.
Jordan and Justin stopped asking to wear Claire’s scarves.
Kevin interpreted that as healing.
Now he wondered whether they had simply learned the answer would be no.
Rebecca pushed the second envelope toward him.
“Claire wrote this for you.”
Kevin did not open it.
“Why didn’t you give it to me?”
“She instructed me to tell you it existed after six months.”
“And?”
“I did.”
Kevin looked up.
Rebecca opened her correspondence file.
Three emails.
Two certified letters.
All sent to Kevin’s office.
All acknowledged by Margaret’s executive assistant.
Kevin stared at the receipts.
May you like
His mother had known the drawer contained Claire’s instructions.
And she had made sure Kevin never saw them.
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