Chapter 3: The Woman on the Recording
The man in the suit introduced himself as Adrian Cole, the attorney administering my grandmother’s trust.
He placed his phone against a vase and turned up the volume.
“Grace, play the recording,” he said.
A screen appeared.
Vanessa was standing at a bank counter, wearing the same pearl bracelet she wore at our dinner table.
Her recorded voice filled the room.
“My stepdaughter is studying overseas.
She authorized me to make the withdrawal.”
I stepped closer.
“I have never studied overseas.”
Vanessa backed toward the hallway.
“That recording proves nothing.
Someone could have altered it.”
Grace answered through the phone.
“The bank supplied the original file, Mrs.
Carter.
It includes the date, time, branch number, and your identification check.”
My father gripped the back of a chair.
“How much did she take?”
Adrian did not look away from Vanessa.
“Two hundred and eighty-six thousand dollars over six years.”
My father’s hand slipped from the chair.
“Vanessa, tell me he is lying.”
“She owed us,” Vanessa said.
“We gave her a home.”
“You gave me a bedroom,” I replied.
“Then you threw my clothes across it.”
Brielle moved between us.
“What happened to the money?”
Vanessa’s eyes hardened.
“Do not start pretending you know nothing.”
“What does that mean?” Brielle asked.
Adrian removed three statements from his folder and laid them out.
“The payments went to Briar House Interiors.”
Brielle stared at the company name.
“That business belongs to me.”
“It was registered in your name,” Adrian said.
“But every withdrawal was authorized by Vanessa Carter.”
Brielle’s mouth opened, but no sound came out.
Vanessa pointed at her.
“Your shop, your car, your apartment—where did you think those things came from?”
“You said Granddad left you money.”
“I said what I needed to say.”
Brielle pulled off the expensive watch Vanessa had given her and dropped it onto the table.
“You used my name?”
“I built your life,” Vanessa snapped.
“You should be thanking me.”
“You built it with her money.”
My father stepped forward.
“And you let me treat my own daughter like a burden while you were taking from her?”
Vanessa laughed once.
“You did that without my help, Robert.”
The words landed harder than a shout.
My father lowered his eyes, and for one terrible second, he said nothing again.
I folded the withdrawal copy and returned it to Adrian.
“Is the estate protected?”
“The house and land are,” he said.
“Your grandmother placed them in a separate trust.
But there is something else we need to discuss privately.”
Vanessa moved toward him.
“You will discuss it here.”
“No,” I said.
“You lost the right to demand anything from me.”
Her expression changed.
The anger disappeared, replaced by a calm smile that frightened me more.
“You think a few keys make you powerful?” she asked.
“Those keys may not belong to you for long.”
Adrian closed his folder.
“Is that a threat, Mrs.
Carter?”
“It is a warning.
Her grandmother was confused near the end.
Any document she signed can be challenged.”
“She passed three years after establishing the trust,” Adrian replied.
“Two physicians confirmed her capacity.”
Vanessa picked up her handbag.
“Then perhaps you should ask Robert what he signed.”
My father looked up sharply.
“What are you talking about?”
“You signed papers too,” she said.
“Have you forgotten?”
Brielle’s phone lit up on the table.
She glanced down, then covered the screen with her palm.
“What was that?” I asked.
“Nothing.”
“Show me.”
Vanessa’s voice turned cold.
“Brielle, put your phone away.”
Brielle looked from her mother to me.
Her fingers trembled as she held out the screen.
The message had come from Vanessa only seconds earlier.
DELETE THE CAMERA FILES AT THE ESTATE BEFORE THEY GET THERE.
Brielle swallowed hard.
“What camera files?” she whispered.
Vanessa snatched for the phone, but my father caught her wrist.
May you like
For the first time in my life, he did not step aside.
“Vanessa,” he said, “what did you do inside my mother’s house?”
