Chapter 9 - The Lie About Thomas
No threat could have been more carefully chosen.
Thomas died after a brief illness, and grief had left me with years of questions no doctor could answer completely.
Vale knew that mentioning my husband might make me abandon everything else.
Instead I asked Marcus to record the substance of the call and pass it to Rebecca.
"I won't let someone turn his death into a bargaining chip," I said.
Daniel looked ashamed.
"Madison told me Dad left debts you were hiding. She said your behavior after he died was proof."
I stared at him.
"Did you believe her?"
"I didn't know what to believe."
"You could have spoken to me."
He shook his head.
"Every conversation turned into a fight. Eventually I stopped asking."
That confession hurt because it explained how small lies had become a wall between us.
I had withdrawn after Thomas died, and my son had allowed Madison to fill the silence with her own version of our family history.
Rebecca arrived in the afternoon, her boots wet with melting snow and her briefcase full of documents.
She immediately clarified that the supposed guardianship petition had not been filed with a court.
The papers were drafts meant to frighten me and possibly persuade third parties that Daniel spoke for me.
"Their legal leverage is far weaker than Vale wants you to think," she said.
Then she produced the current trust certificate and corporate register.
The governing documents required my verified written consent for any controlling interest to change hands.
Neither Daniel nor Madison had authority to amend them.
I felt relief, but only for a moment.
"That means they need another route," I said.
Rebecca nodded.
"Perhaps a fake consent, perhaps pressure, perhaps a manufactured emergency."
A hotel courier delivered a package to my suite.
Inside was a photograph of Thomas and me on the day the bronze plaque had been installed.
On the back, someone had written in black ink: HE KNEW ABOUT SUMMIT.
I recognized the handwriting before I recognized the meaning.
It was not Vale's.
May you like
It was my husband's.
