Chapter 9 - My Sister’s Eighty Thousand Dollar Lie
Chelsea had been listening from the hall.
Maybe for a minute.
Maybe longer.
Her eyes were swollen.
She looked at Thomas.
Then Mom.
Then me.
“You’re saying he’s my father?”
No one answered.
Chelsea laughed.
“No. Absolutely not.”
“Chelsea,” Mom whispered.
“No.”
She backed away.
“You told me Dad was my father.”
“He is.”
“That is not what we’re talking about.”
Thomas stood motionless.
Chelsea pointed at him.
“This man abandoned everyone.”
“He didn’t know you existed,” Mom said.
Thomas closed his eyes.
That was new information to him.
He looked at Margaret.
“You never told me?”
“You were gone.”
“You had ways.”
“I was afraid.”
“You knew how to find Colleen.”
Mom said nothing.
Thomas turned away.
Chelsea’s breathing became ragged.
I wanted to be angry with her.
I was angry.
She had accepted my son’s money.
She had laughed at the barbecue.
She had spent years enjoying a system that hurt me.
But standing there, watching her discover the man she called Dad was not her biological father, I saw something familiar.
A child trying to understand why adults had built her life on a secret.
“Sit down,” I said.
She looked at me.
“Don’t.”
“What?”
“Don’t be nice.”
“I’m not being nice.”
“Yes, you are.”
She wiped her face.
“You always do that. You act calm so everyone else looks awful.”
I almost laughed.
Even now.
“Chelsea, I am furious with you.”
“Good.”
“You took Dany’s money.”
“I didn’t know.”
“You knew Mom was moving money Dad couldn’t approve himself.”
“She said he had.”
“And you didn’t ask.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because I didn’t want to.”
The honesty surprised me.
She sank into a chair.
“I knew if I asked, something would be wrong.”
Mom whispered, “Chelsea.”
“Stop talking.”
Mom froze.
Chelsea stared at the table.
“She called me after Dad’s stroke. Said she was finally fixing everything. Said Dad had always been irresponsible with family money.”
Thomas looked toward me.
“What accounts?”
I explained Dany’s trust.
His jaw tightened.
“How much?”
“One hundred eighty-six thousand.”
Mom closed her eyes.
Thomas looked at her.
“You touched the child’s account?”
“It was family money.”
“It belonged to Daniel.”
“He is four.”
“That makes it worse.”
Margaret stood.
“I needed liquidity.”
“For what?”
She did not answer.
Chelsea whispered, “Mom.”
“What?”
“Tell them.”
Mom stared.
“Tell us what?”
Chelsea looked at me.
“The kitchen wasn’t eighty thousand.”
“I know.”
I hadn’t.
She continued.
“Mom transferred eighty thousand through my account. She told me to keep twenty-five for Carter’s school and send the rest to a company.”
“What company?”
“Northfield Care.”
Thomas went still.
“What?”
“You know it?”
He looked at Mom.
“You paid Northfield?”
Margaret said nothing.
Thomas crossed the room.
“What did you do?”
“Back away from me.”
“What did you do?”
I stepped between them.
“What is Northfield?”
Thomas answered without taking his eyes off Mom.
“A private nursing and rehabilitation company.”
“That sounds normal.”
“It would be if it existed.”
My stomach dropped.
“It doesn’t?”
“It’s a shell.”
“For what?”
Thomas looked at Chelsea.
“What account did you send it to?”
“I have the transfer.”
She pulled out her phone.
Thomas read it.
His face changed.
“This isn’t Northfield Care.”
“What?”
“The routing number belongs to a private holding company.”
“Whose?”
He enlarged the screen.
Then looked at me.
“Frederick’s son.”
I stared.
“Mom’s cousin?”
“Elliot Mercer.”
I remembered Elliot.
Christmas cards.
Golf photos.
A man who lived two states away and rarely visited.
“What does Elliot have to do with Dad?”
Thomas’s voice became grim.
“If Richard is right, everything.”
Margaret whispered, “You don’t know that.”
“I know Elliot contacted me eight months ago.”
“What?”
Thomas turned to us.
“He knew I was alive.”
“How?”
“I never found out.”
“What did he want?”
“To know whether Richard had located the original partnership records.”
I looked at Mom.
“You sent him money.”
She shook her head.
“Not for that.”
“Then for what?”
She whispered, “To leave us alone.”
Aunt Colleen finally spoke.
“Margaret, he was blackmailing you?”
“Yes.”
“For what?”
Mom looked at Chelsea.
Then at Thomas.
“For Thomas being alive.”
I frowned.
“That makes no sense.”
“It does if Frederick’s death wasn’t natural,” Thomas said.
Everyone froze.
Mom stared at him.
“You promised.”
“Richard is missing.”
“Thomas.”
“What happened to Frederick?” I demanded.
No answer.
I stepped closer to my mother.
“What happened?”
Her lips trembled.
“He found Thomas.”
“When?”
“1994.”
Three years after the boat.
“What happened?”
“He went after him again.”
“And?”
Thomas spoke quietly.
“I survived.”
“Frederick?”
Mom whispered, “He didn’t.”
I felt the room tilt.
“You killed him?”
Thomas shook his head.
“No.”
I looked at Mom.
Her silence answered.
Chelsea stood.
“No.”
Margaret’s eyes filled.
“He was going to kill Thomas.”
“So you killed Frederick?”
“It was an accident.”
“How?”
“He had a gun.”
“What happened?”
“He fell.”
“Where?”
Mom whispered, “A quarry.”
No one moved.
Thomas looked at her as if even he hated remembering.
“Richard never knew,” he said.
My mind raced.
Elliot had learned his father’s death was not natural.
He had blackmailed Mom.
Mom had moved money through Chelsea.
Then Dad uncovered irregularities.
Then Dad’s medication changed.
The story finally began forming a shape.
And it was uglier than any of us had imagined.
My phone buzzed.
A text from Dad’s number.
One sentence.
Lucy, if Chelsea is with you, do not let her go home.
May you like
Then another message appeared.
He knows she moved the money.
