Chapter 7 - the brother who signed
Cole had always been the easier child.
Vivian said so herself.
Elena was difficult.
Questioning.
Independent.
Too ambitious.
Cole was agreeable.
He lived in Richmond, worked in commercial sales, and called their mother almost every day.
Elena loved him.
But she had learned not to tell him anything she did not want repeated to Vivian.
She called him anyway.
“Did you sign something about me?”
Silence.
“Cole.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Guardianship.”
Another silence.
Longer.
Elena closed her eyes.
“You did.”
“Mom said it was temporary.”
“Did you sign it?”
“She said you needed help.”
“I have help.”
“She said you were giving money away.”
“To who?”
“I don’t know.”
“To her, Cole.”
“That’s not what she said.”
Elena laughed once.
It sounded ugly.
“What exactly did she tell you?”
“That you were on strong medication. That you weren’t thinking clearly. That Andrew might try to take the kids.”
“Andrew is not trying to take the kids.”
“That’s what Mom said.”
“Of course it is.”
“Elena, don’t do this.”
“Do what?”
“Turn everything into an attack.”
She stared at the wall.
The phrase was Vivian’s.
Same words.
Same cadence.
“Did you read the statement before signing?”
“I skimmed it.”
“It says I forget conversations.”
Cole said nothing.
“It says I have transferred large amounts of money without understanding why.”
Silence.
“It says I am unable to supervise my children.”
“Elena.”
“Did you read that?”
“I told you. I skimmed it.”
“You signed your name underneath it.”
“I thought I was helping.”
“You thought you were helping Mom.”
“That’s unfair.”
“No, Cole. Unfair is signing a statement that could give someone control of my bank accounts without calling me first.”
He became defensive.
“Maybe if you weren’t so secretive about money, people wouldn’t worry.”
Elena went still.
“What does that mean?”
“Mom says you control everything with money.”
Elena almost dropped the phone.
She looked through the office doorway.
The mortgage statement sat on the counter.
Vivian’s car insurance bill was clipped beside it.
A retirement contribution confirmation waited in Elena’s email.
“What money does Mom think she’s entitled to?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Answer me.”
Cole sighed.
“She says the house is basically hers.”
Elena stared ahead.
“Basically?”
“She’s lived there. She’s taken care of it. She’s taken care of you.”
“Who told you she owns it?”
“She never said legally.”
“Does she know whose name is on the deed?”
“I assume yours.”
“Does she know whose name is on the Lexus?”
“Elena.”
“Does she know who pays her insurance?”
“This is petty.”
“Who funds her retirement?”
“Elena, stop.”
“No. You signed a statement calling me financially irresponsible while I have been funding the woman who asked you to sign it.”
Cole went silent.
Elena’s anger cooled.
That was when she became dangerous to Vivian.
Not when she shouted.
When she stopped trying to be understood.
“I’m sending you the documents.”
“You don’t need to.”
“I’m sending them anyway.”
She hung up.
Five minutes later, Daniel called.
“I found the draft deed.”
Elena felt her stomach turn.
“What deed?”
“Someone prepared a quitclaim transfer.”
“To who?”
May you like
Daniel paused.
“From you to your mother.”
