Chapter 7
I didn't know whether to comfort Mom or scream at her.
She sat on Grandpa's couch crying into a tissue.
The bank statements lay on the coffee table.
Vanessa Reed.
The woman Dad had apparently been seeing.
The woman whose account received money connected to his business.
I stared at the pages.
Then looked toward Grandpa.
He looked exhausted.
For years, he'd defended Dad.
Called his mistakes temporary.
Helped him recover from failed investments.
And now his son had betrayed his father, his wife, and his daughter.
All at once.
Mom wiped her eyes.
"I didn't know about Vanessa."
I took a breath.
"How long?"
She shook her head.
"I don't know."
Grandpa remained quiet.
Then he asked, "Diane, why are you telling us now?"
Mom looked at him.
Her face crumpled.
"Because Marcus told me to sign another document."
My stomach tightened.
"What document?"
She reached into her handbag.
Then removed a folded paper.
It was titled:
FAMILY PROPERTY MANAGEMENT CONSENT.
Grandpa took it.
His eyes narrowed.
"What is this?"
Mom swallowed.
"Marcus said it would help protect the company."
I stared.
"Did you sign it?"
She shook her head.
"No."
My chest loosened.
Then she whispered, "Not this time."
The words hit me like a slap.
Not this time.
I looked directly at her.
"How many times did you sign things you didn't understand?"
Mom began crying harder.
"I don't know."
I closed my eyes.
For a moment, I felt furious.
Then Grandpa spoke.
"Diane."
His voice was calm.
She looked up.
"You need to tell Naomi everything."
Mom nodded.
"I will."
Grandpa continued.
"Not just the things that make Marcus look bad."
She swallowed.
"Everything."
I looked at her.
Mom's hands were shaking.
Then she whispered, "I know."
For the first time, she seemed to understand that protecting Dad wasn't the same as protecting our family.
That afternoon, Naomi reviewed Mom's documents.
She asked careful questions.
When did Marcus present the forms?
Who was present?
Which accounts were involved?
Did Mom receive copies?
Were any payments made to her?
Mom answered.
Sometimes she cried.
Sometimes she couldn't remember exact dates.
But she kept trying.
Then Naomi asked something that made the room go silent.
"Diane, did you ever receive money from the trust established for Maya?"
Mom looked at me.
Her face went pale.
I stared.
"Mom?"
She took a shaky breath.
"Yes."
My chest tightened.
"How much?"
She looked down.
"Thirty thousand dollars."
I stopped breathing.
Thirty thousand.
I remembered the year Mom bought a new car.
She told everyone Dad surprised her.
She said she'd waited years for something beautiful.
Now I wondered whether my inheritance had paid for it.
I looked at her.
"What did you use it for?"
She began crying.
"A car."
I felt sick.
Grandpa closed his eyes.
Mom continued.
"Marcus told me it was a bonus from the company."
I swallowed.
"Did you ask where it came from?"
She shook her head.
"No."
For a long moment, nobody spoke.
Then I whispered, "You were laughing at Grandpa on Christmas."
Mom covered her mouth.
I continued.
"You acted like he was stupid because he wore a hearing aid."
Tears streamed down her face.
"I know."
My voice broke.
"He was the one person trying to protect us."
Mom began sobbing.
I wiped my cheeks.
"And you treated him like a burden."
She looked toward Grandpa.
Her face crumpled.
"Arthur, I'm sorry."
Grandpa remained quiet.
Then he spoke softly.
"An apology doesn't repair missing money."
Mom nodded.
"I know."
He continued.
"But telling the truth is a beginning."
I looked at him.
For the first time, I understood how much strength it took not to respond to cruelty with cruelty.
Grandpa wasn't pretending everything was fine.
He wasn't forgiving without accountability.
He was simply refusing to become the kind of person who hurt him.
Over the following months, Mom cooperated with the investigation.
The financial records revealed that Dad's investment company was struggling with serious debts.
Money from Grandpa's accounts had been used to cover operating expenses.
Some funds had been transferred into personal accounts.
Others appeared connected to Vanessa.
The authorities reviewed the evidence.
Dad's access to Grandpa's accounts remained restricted.
The loan against Eastwood Plaza was formally challenged.
And the independent accountants worked to trace the missing money.
During that time, Grandpa's health became my biggest concern.
He was still sharp.
Still funny.
Still stubborn.
But the stress exhausted him.
Some nights, I'd find him sitting alone in his study.
Staring at Grandma's photograph.
One evening, I asked, "Grandpa, what are you thinking about?"
He smiled sadly.
"Evelyn."
I sat beside him.
"What about her?"
He looked toward the picture.
"She always believed Marcus would become a better man."
My throat tightened.
Grandpa continued.
"She told me to stop rescuing him from every mistake."
I nodded.
"She was right."
He smiled sadly.
"Usually was."
I leaned against him.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then he whispered, "I feel like I failed him."
I looked up.
"Grandpa, no."
He shook his head.
"I kept giving him chances."
I took his hand.
"You loved your son."
His eyes filled.
I continued.
"But he made his own choices."
Grandpa looked at me.
Then slowly nodded.
"Yes."
I hugged him.
For the first time, I realized how much he needed someone to say that.
The next morning, Naomi called with news.
The bank had completed a review of several disputed transactions.
The evidence supported serious concerns about unauthorized transfers.
Additional records connected Dad's business office to the loan documentation.
The case was moving forward.
Grandpa listened quietly.
Then asked, "What happens to Marcus?"
Naomi explained that investigators and prosecutors would determine the appropriate legal action based on the evidence.
Grandpa nodded.
He didn't celebrate.
Neither did I.
Then Naomi added something unexpected.
"Arthur, there's also evidence that Vanessa received funds she may not have been entitled to."
My stomach tightened.
"How much?"
She paused.
"Approximately one hundred and twenty thousand dollars."
I stared at Mom.
Her face went pale.
Then Naomi continued.
"And some of the transfers occurred after Marcus knew the accounts were under review."
Grandpa closed his eyes.
I felt sick.
Dad hadn't stopped.
Even after Christmas.
Even after Grandpa confronted him.
He kept moving money.
And now I understood why the dark-green notebook had frightened him so much.
May you like
It wasn't just a record of the past.
It was the beginning of the end of everything he'd been hiding.
