Chapter 6 - THE PRICE OF THE PARTY
I listened to Elise's voicemail three times.
The first time, I heard anger.
The second time, fear.
The third time, self-preservation.
That was the one I trusted.
Maya wanted me to wait before responding.
"She may be fishing," she said.
"Probably."
"She may want to know what evidence you have."
"Probably."
"And she may be scared your father's fraud affects her wedding money."
"Definitely."
I set the phone down.
"I still want to hear what she says."
Maya considered it.
"Then I want the call documented."
"Fine."
I texted Elise one sentence.
You can call me at four if you want the truth.
She called at 3:58.
Of course she did.
"Did Dad forge your signature?" she asked immediately.
No greeting.
No apology.
No question about my recovery.
At least my family was consistent.
"Yes."
She inhaled sharply.
"Are you sure?"
"I was in Seattle on the date a notary claims I signed in person."
"Maybe the date is wrong."
"The signature is wrong too."
"But it looks like yours."
My eyes narrowed.
Maya looked up from her notes.
"How do you know what it looks like?"
Silence.
Elise recovered.
"Dad showed me a copy weeks ago."
"Why?"
"Because he said you were helping with the company."
"When?"
"I do not remember."
"Try."
"Nora, do not interrogate me."
"You called a corporate litigator to ask about a forged guarantee."
"You are my sister."
"You entered my condo through Caleb."
Her voice sharpened.
"I told him to get documents you needed."
"That is a lie."
"Mom said you asked for them."
"Mom did not know which binder you told him to retrieve."
The silence stretched.
"What do you want from me?" Elise finally asked.
"The truth."
She gave a breathy laugh.
"You always say that like truth is free."
"Usually the lie is more expensive."
That was exactly what our family was learning.
I asked when she formed Silver Birch Events.
She said it had been an idea for wedding planning after friends complimented her engagement arrangements.
I asked why the company had been created before the engagement party.
She said she wanted vendor discounts.
I asked why someone tried to send $75,000 from my emergency account into it.
She said Dad had told her the money was coming from a temporary family loan.
"From whom?"
"He did not say."
"Did you ask?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because he is my father."
There it was.
The answer that had excused everything in our house for decades.
Because he is my father.
Because she is your sister.
Because family helps family.
Each phrase meant the same thing.
Do not ask questions when the answer benefits Elise.
"How much has Dad paid toward your engagement and wedding?" I asked.
"That is private."
"Not if my money funded it."
"Your money did not fund it."
"Then answer."
Elise exhaled angrily.
"I do not know the exact amount."
"Estimate."
"Maybe eighty thousand."
Maya's pen stopped.
"For the engagement party?"
"And deposits."
"How many deposits?"
"Venue."
"How much?"
"Thirty-five."
"Planner?"
"Twelve."
"Catering?"
"Twenty."
"Flowers?"
"Eight."
"Dress?"
"That is not a deposit."
"How much?"
"Nora."
"How much?"
"Eighteen."
I closed my eyes.
Elise had spent more on a wedding dress than many people spent on a car.
"Anything else?"
"Photography."
"How much?"
"Six."
"Music?"
"Five."
"Invitations?"
"Three."
The numbers kept coming.
By the time she finished, we were over $120,000.
That did not include the engagement party.
"How much did the party cost?"
"I do not know."
"You planned it."
"Mom did most of it."
"How much?"
"Maybe fifty."
I looked at Maya.
She wrote: 170K+
"Dad's company is in trouble," I said.
Elise went quiet.
"I know."
That answer surprised me.
"How much trouble?"
"He said a client delayed payment."
"Enough to need nine hundred thousand in guaranteed credit?"
"He did not tell me that."
"But you knew there was a problem."
"Businesses have cash-flow problems all the time."
"And you let him spend more than one hundred seventy thousand dollars on your engagement and wedding anyway."
Her voice turned cold.
"Do not make this my fault."
"I asked a question."
"You are doing what you always do."
"What is that?"
"Making me feel guilty for having things."
I stared at the phone.
"I was in a hospital bed looking at photographs of your champagne tower."
"There it is."
"What?"
"You are jealous."
For one second I could not believe she had said it.
Then I realized of course she had.
Elise's world had always rearranged itself until she was the victim at the center.
"Jealous of what?"
"That Mom and Dad were celebrating me."
I looked down at the braces around my legs.
"Elise, I was trying to stand without collapsing."
"And you survived."
The words were identical to what she had said in my hospital room.
This time they landed differently.
Not thoughtless.
Intentional.
"You think survival means nobody had to show up," I said.
"I think you are using your surgery to punish everyone because attention was on me for one night."
Maya closed her eyes.
I felt strangely calm.
"Thank you."
"For what?"
"For reminding me who I am dealing with."
"Nora-"
"Did you know Dad intended to move seventy-five thousand dollars from my account?"
She did not answer.
"Elise."
"He said you would be reimbursed."
There it was.
"So you knew the money was mine."
Silence.
"You knew."
"I knew he planned to borrow from you."
"Without asking me."
"He said you would not mind once you understood."
I laughed once.
"I was unconscious when the first plan was made."
"You make everything sound criminal."
"Forgery and unauthorized transfers save me the effort."
Her voice dropped.
"If you destroy Dad's company, people will lose their jobs."
"Dad chose to forge my signature."
"You could fix this."
There it was again.
The family equation.
Dad creates the problem.
Elise benefits.
Mom excuses it.
Nora fixes it.
"How?"
"Pay off the line."
I did not speak.
Elise rushed into the silence.
"Not all at once."
"You want me to pay nine hundred thousand dollars I never borrowed."
"You could structure it."
Maya's eyes widened in disbelief.
"And the wedding?" I asked.
"What about it?"
"Should I pay that too?"
"Do not be sarcastic."
"I am genuinely trying to understand the scope of my obligations in your imagination."
"You have money."
"So does Caleb."
"His family believes the bride's family should contribute."
"Then perhaps the bride's family should contribute money they actually own."
Elise started crying.
I knew the sound well.
Not grief.
Frustration.
Her tears had always arrived when resistance did.
"You hate me," she whispered.
"No."
I surprised myself with the answer.
"I hate what you think you are entitled to take from me."
She cried harder.
"That is the same thing."
"Only if you think taking from me is part of who you are."
The line went silent.
Then she said, "You will regret this."
"Probably."
"Mom will never forgive you."
That one almost made me smile.
"For stopping you from stealing my money?"
"For tearing this family apart."
I looked at the scar under my hospital gown.
"I was alone before surgery."
My voice stayed steady.
"The family was already apart."
She hung up.
Maya ended the recording.
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
Then Maya said, "She admitted she knew the seventy-five thousand was yours."
"Yes."
"She admitted your father intended to take it without prior consent."
"Yes."
"And she asked you to assume the fraudulent debt."
"Yes."
"I am beginning to dislike your sister."
"Beginning?"
Maya smiled faintly.
Then her phone chimed.
She read the email and stopped smiling.
"What?"
"North Valley sent the disbursement history on the credit line."
"And?"
She turned the screen toward me.
The bank had advanced $600,000 under the line two days after the forged guarantee was supposedly executed.
Most of it had gone to Mercer Industrial operating accounts.
But one transfer stood out.
$146,000 had gone from Mercer Industrial to a personal account owned jointly by my parents.
Two days later, $138,500 had gone from that account to wedding vendors.
I stared at the numbers.
My sister's party had not merely been chosen over my surgery.
May you like
It had been financed by debt backed with my forged signature.
