Chapter 8 - LYDIA'S FIRST LIE
Lydia called me before we had decided whether to call her.
The timing was so precise that Marta immediately told me not to assume coincidence or conspiracy.
"Answer if you want to," she said.
"Just remember she may be calling because Bianca told her to."
I put the phone on speaker.
"Hello, Lydia."
Her voice was softer than I had ever heard it.
"Helga, we need to talk."
"About what?"
"Everything."
I looked at Marta.
She nodded for me to continue.
"You can speak now."
"Not over the phone."
Of course.
Nobody wanted to say anything over the phone anymore.
"Then come to Marta's office."
Lydia hesitated.
"Your lawyer?"
"Yes."
"I want to speak woman to woman."
"You had that opportunity on Mother's Day."
She went quiet.
I remembered her laughing under her breath while Ewald held the torn envelope.
I remembered the retirement-home question.
I remembered every small cruelty she had treated as entertainment.
"Marta's office," I repeated.
"Or no meeting."
Lydia agreed.
She arrived two hours later wearing dark glasses although the day was cloudy.
She looked smaller without Ewald beside her.
That surprised me.
For years, I had thought of Lydia as the sharpest person in the room.
Now she looked frightened.
She sat across from me and kept her handbag clutched on her lap.
Marta opened a notebook.
"Mrs. Bauer, before we begin, I represent Helga."
"I do not represent you."
Lydia nodded impatiently.
"I understand."
Marta continued.
"If you want legal advice for yourself, you should speak to your own lawyer."
"I don't need a lawyer."
Marta did not react.
"That is your decision."
Lydia looked at me.
"Ewald has gone too far."
I almost laughed.
"When?"
She frowned.
"What do you mean?"
"When did he go too far?"
"When your daughter grabbed my money?"
"When you laughed?"
"When you signed as a witness to a document I never signed?"
Lydia's face tightened.
"I didn't know what that paper was."
There it was.
Her first lie.
She had been in the room less than three minutes.
Marta asked, "Which paper?"
Lydia realized too late what she had done.
"I don't know."
"Helga mentioned a document with your witness signature."
"You responded that you did not know what the paper was."
"So you remember signing something?"
Lydia stared at her handbag.
"Ewald asked me to witness a signature."
"Whose signature?"
"Helga's."
"Did you see Helga sign?"
Lydia looked up at me.
"I thought you had."
"That is not my question," Marta said.
"Did you see Helga sign the document?"
Lydia's eyes filled with tears.
"No."
The answer was almost a whisper.
I felt no satisfaction.
Only cold confirmation.
"Where were you when you signed as witness?" Marta asked.
"At my house."
"Was Helga there?"
"No."
"Who gave you the document?"
"Ewald."
"Was Bianca present?"
"Yes."
I looked at Lydia.
"Why did you sign?"
She rubbed her thumb against the clasp of her handbag.
"They said you had already agreed."
"They said your hand was shaking and you forgot to get a witness."
"They said it was only paperwork for future planning."
"And you believed them?"
Lydia looked away.
"I wanted to."
That was closer to the truth.
Marta asked, "Did you know the document concerned Helga's apartment?"
"Not at first."
"When did you learn?"
"Later."
"How much later?"
"A few weeks."
"And what did you do then?"
Lydia began crying.
"Nothing."
I sat back.
That single word told me more about her than all the tears.
Nothing.
She knew my home was involved.
She knew she had falsely witnessed my signature.
And she did nothing.
"Why are you here now?" I asked.
Lydia wiped her face.
"Because Ewald is blaming Bianca."
Alexander, who had been sitting quietly near the window, spoke for the first time.
"For what?"
Lydia startled when she saw him.
I realized she had been so focused on me that she had barely noticed him.
"For the company."
"For the money."
"For your documents."
Alexander stood.
"Is Bianca innocent?"
Lydia did not answer.
"Lydia."
"Is your daughter innocent?"
She shook her head.
"No."
Alexander closed his eyes.
Lydia continued.
"But Ewald pushed her."
"He always pushes."
"He tells people what they owe him until they start believing it."
I asked, "What did Bianca owe him?"
"Everything, according to Ewald."
He had paid for her university.
He had helped with their wedding.
He had given them part of the down payment for their house.
Every gift became debt later.
Every favor became leverage.
According to Lydia, Ewald's consulting business had been failing for nearly four years.
He lost two large clients.
He borrowed money to cover payroll and appearances.
He refused to shrink the business because failure embarrassed him more than debt frightened him.
Then he discovered Alexander's employer was preparing several major bids.
Lydia claimed she did not know exactly how Ewald obtained the information.
She believed Bianca began helping him with money first.
Then documents.
Then access.
"How much money did he lose?" Alexander asked.
Lydia whispered, "More than you know."
"How much?"
"Maybe four hundred thousand."
Alexander stared at her.
"Four hundred?"
"Some was business debt."
"Some was private."
"He borrowed against the house."
"He borrowed from friends."
"He used my retirement savings."
For the first time, I saw Lydia not as an accomplice but as both accomplice and victim.
The distinction did not erase what she had done.
It made the picture more complicated.
"Why my apartment?" I asked.
Lydia's mouth trembled.
"Because Ewald said Alexander would inherit it anyway."
My son made a sound like he had been struck.
Lydia rushed on.
"He said it was wasted capital sitting there."
"He said you could live somewhere safer."
"He said if the company had an option, he could use it as part of a financing package."
Marta interrupted.
"Use it how?"
"As evidence of future assets."
"Collateral?"
"I don't know."
"He talked about showing investors there was property value behind the family."
Marta wrote quickly.
Alexander looked at Lydia.
"Did Bianca know the signature was fake?"
Lydia started crying harder.
"Yes."
The room went completely still.
"How do you know?"
"Because she practiced it."
My skin went cold.
"Practiced what?"
Lydia looked at me.
"Your signature."
She said Bianca copied my name over and over on scrap paper at her parents' dining table.
At first, Lydia thought it was a joke.
Then Bianca brought the old Mother's Day photograph with my signature on the back.
She placed it beside the practice sheets.
Ewald corrected the angle of the final stroke.
Lydia watched.
And still she did nothing.
I gripped the arms of my chair.
Alexander turned away and pressed both hands against the wall.
Marta asked, "Do those practice sheets still exist?"
Lydia nodded.
"I kept some."
"Why?"
"Because I got scared."
"Where are they?"
Lydia tightened her grip on the handbag.
"Not with me."
Marta's eyes sharpened.
"Where?"
"In a storage unit."
Ewald rented one across town under a company name.
Lydia had access because old furniture and family boxes were stored there too.
Months earlier, after she began fearing what Ewald and Bianca were doing, she hid several papers inside an old suitcase.
She said the suitcase contained signature practice sheets, copies of financial ledgers, and letters from lenders.
Alexander asked, "Why didn't you bring them?"
Lydia looked toward the office door.
"Because Ewald doesn't know I'm here."
"Then let's go get them."
She shook her head violently.
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because he checks the storage unit."
Marta asked, "When was the last time?"
"Yesterday."
That made everyone stop.
"How do you know?"
Lydia took out her phone.
A motion alert from the storage facility showed the unit opening at 11:43 the previous night.
The access code used belonged to Ewald.
Another alert showed it opening again at 12:18.
Lydia whispered, "He never goes there at night."
Alexander asked, "What was he doing?"
She looked at us.
"I think he was looking for the notebook."
Marta closed her legal pad.
"The notebook that arrived in the drilled safe?"
Lydia nodded.
"It wasn't supposed to be in that safe."
"Where was it supposed to be?"
"In the storage unit."
I felt the room tilt slightly.
"Then who put it in the safe?"
Lydia's face went pale.
"I did."
"When?"
"On Mother's Day."
"Before we came to your house."
Alexander stared at her.
"Why?"
Lydia looked at him with something like shame.
"Because I knew your father-in-law was going to take that twenty-five thousand euros."
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"And I wanted someone to find out why."
