THE SEVEN UNLIT CANDLES

Thomas’s flight was scheduled to leave San Diego at eleven the next morning.

At nine thirty, one of his attorneys called with news about the commercial property negotiation. A competitor had introduced a revised offer, and the board wanted Thomas to remain for another day.

For five minutes, Thomas considered it.

The deal was significant. Hundreds of jobs and several years of development depended on the decision.

Then he looked at the wrapped birthday gift on the hotel desk.

Inside was a small brass telescope.

Nolan had become fascinated by the night sky after Thomas showed him Saturn through an observatory lens. The boy had spent months drawing planets and asking questions Thomas could not always answer.

Thomas called the board.

“Finish the negotiations without me.”

His attorney sounded surprised.

“You’ve led this project from the beginning.”

“My grandson turns seven today.”

There was a pause.

“We can delay the final session until tomorrow.”

“No. You know my position. Represent it.”

Thomas ended the call and left for the airport.

While waiting to board, he received an encrypted message from his private accountant, Elaine Foster.

The subject line read: Urgent irregularities involving family trust assets.

Thomas opened the report.

The first page showed an attempted loan application involving the Phoenix residence.

The property belonged to the Hawthorne Living Trust.

Alistair had listed himself as its beneficial owner.

Thomas read the page twice.

The next document showed withdrawals from two educational accounts, including Nolan’s.

The money had been transferred into a venture that had recently failed.

Thomas called Elaine immediately.

“How long have you known?”

“I confirmed the documents this morning.”

“Why was I not notified when the first transfer occurred?”

“Alistair used an authorization code from his temporary management role. The transaction was categorized as an approved family investment.”

“It was not approved.”

“I know that now.”

“Freeze every discretionary account he can access.”

“I’ll need written authorization.”

“You’ll have it within ten minutes.”

Thomas opened his laptop and signed the necessary documents before boarding.

During the flight, he studied the trust agreements he had created years earlier.

Alistair served as acting president of Hawthorne Development Group, but he owned less than five percent of its voting shares.

His home, company car, expense accounts, and investment access were benefits of employment.

The trust agreement allowed Thomas, as primary trustee, to revoke access immediately in cases of misuse, fraud, or conduct harmful to a minor beneficiary.

Nolan was a minor beneficiary.

Thomas closed his eyes.

For years, he had believed giving Alistair responsibility would teach him humility. Instead, authority had magnified every flaw his son refused to confront.

A message from Nicole appeared when the plane landed.

Please come through the front entrance. Don’t call Alistair first.

Thomas stared at the words.

Then another message arrived.

Nolan thinks asking for a birthday made him selfish.

Thomas gripped the phone until his hand trembled.

The airport driver asked whether he wanted to stop at the office before going home.

“No,” Thomas said.