Chapter 3: The Debt Behind the Smile
Jessica recovered first.
“This is ridiculous,” she said.
“Margaret probably signed something and forgot.”
“I remember my own signature,” I replied.
Colin took the document from Richard.
His eyes moved to the amount printed at the top.
“One hundred and eighty thousand dollars?”
“It was an application for a line of credit,” Richard said.
“Submitted six weeks ago using Margaret’s Social Security number and financial history.”
Jessica folded her arms.
“You cannot accuse me without proof.”
“I haven’t accused you,” Richard replied.
“You identified yourself.”
Her mouth opened, then closed.
I stepped closer.
“Why did you know Oakridge wasn’t expecting me until January?”
“Because Colin told you the date.”
“No.
He told me when he wanted me to move.
Nobody said when Oakridge expected me.”
Colin lowered the document.
“Jessica?”
She reached for his arm.
“They’re twisting words.
Your mother has always resented me.”
“For cooking your meals?” I asked.
“Or for raising your children while you worked?”
“I never forced you to do any of that.”
“No,” I said.
“You just made sure I paid for every meal, every ride, and every night under this roof with my labor.”
Jessica’s eyes narrowed.
“So this is revenge?”
Richard lifted his briefcase.
“This is an investigation.”
One mover carried my suitcase outside.
The second waited beside the stairs.
“Nothing leaves this house until I know what’s happening,” Jessica said.
“The suitcase belongs to me,” I replied.
“You’ve lived here for four years.
How do we know what you’re taking?”
I unzipped it on the floor.
Clothes.
Arthur’s photograph.
My medication.
The envelope.
Jessica pointed at it.
“Open that.”
“No.”
“If you have nothing to hide—”
“It contains the deed to my new home.”
Colin stared at me.
“Your new home?”
“And documents establishing the Arthur Vance Foundation.”
Jessica gave a short laugh.
“With what money?”
I looked directly at her.
“The ticket won eight million dollars.”
The color drained from Colin’s face.
Jessica gripped the stair rail.
“Eight million?”
“After taxes and careful planning, I have enough to live comfortably and help other people.”
“Other people?” Jessica said.
“We’re your family.”
“You remembered that quickly.”
Colin sank onto a chair.
“Mom, why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I wanted to know how you treated me when you thought I had nothing.”
His eyes dropped to the brochure still lying on the table.
Jessica stepped between us.
“Whatever mistakes were made, we can settle this privately.”
Richard shook his head.
“The lender has already preserved the application records.”
“I said I didn’t submit it!”
“Then you won’t mind telling us why the application listed your office number.”
Jessica’s hand flew to her pocket.
Her phone lit up before she could silence it.
The name on the screen was **DANIEL REESE — OAKRIDGE**.
Richard saw it.
“So Oakridge is calling you,” he said.
“It’s about the deposit.”
I held out my hand.
“Answer it.”
“This is my private phone.”
“You used my private information.”
Jessica rejected the call.
A second later, a message appeared across the screen:
**The competency letter is ready.
Once Margaret is admitted, we can file for control.**
Colin read it over her shoulder.
“What does ‘file for control’ mean?”
Jessica shoved the phone into her pocket.
“It means nothing.”
Richard’s voice sharpened.
“It means someone planned to claim Margaret could no longer manage her own affairs.”
I picked up Arthur’s photograph.
“Were you trying to take my money before you even knew about the lottery?”
Jessica backed away.
“You can’t prove that message was about you.”
From the top of the stairs came a small voice.
“Yes, she can.”
Lucas stood there holding an open laptop.
May you like
“Mom left this in my room,” he said.
“And Grandma’s name is all over it.”
