Chapter 17 - JASON'S PRICE
I did not meet Jason alone.
After consulting Collins, I agreed that his attorney could transmit any statement or evidence through formal channels.
Jason objected immediately.
He wanted me in a motel parking lot, without Daniel, without a recorder, and without anyone who might tell him no.
That was the old family script.
I refused.
Two days later his lawyer contacted Collins.
Jason had documents he believed implicated Mom in preparing the forged property papers.
In exchange, he wanted me to forgive the inheritance debt and withdraw every complaint.
Collins explained that I could discuss civil matters, but I could not control what authorities chose to investigate.
I also had no desire to pay for evidence that ought to be truthful regardless of reward.
I sent a response through counsel: we would review authentic documents, but there would be no agreement that required anyone to lie or obstruct a process.
Jason reacted by sending me a long message.
He accused me of choosing a house over family.
Then he accused me of choosing Olivia over him.
I read that sentence three times.
For years I'd believed the problem was that my brother had never grown up.
Now I realized he had been taught that a child's needs were competition he was entitled to win.
I did not answer.
A day later, Tessa called again.
Jason had come to her workplace asking for a place to sleep.
When she refused, he said Pike had threatened to release recordings that made all three of them look bad.
He seemed genuinely frightened.
I felt a flicker of concern, followed by the memory of Olivia's clothes in garbage bags.
Compassion did not erase my right to safety.
That evening Daniel returned from the mailbox carrying a large yellow envelope.
There was no return address.
Inside were copies of Jason's texts with Mom, including one from the day before my labor.
"When Hannah goes to the hospital, move everything fast," Mom had written.
"Don't damage the crib. We may need to put it back if she calls anyone important."
Another said, "Make sure the room looks lived in before they come home."
That line stopped me.
The pizza boxes, the mattress, the cables: all the deliberate signs of occupation.
They had been creating evidence of a supposed tenancy.
The package also included a photograph of my stolen journal open to the missing pages.
At the bottom was a handwritten note from Jason.
"I didn't know Mom had already used your name before the twenty-five thousand."
I called Collins immediately.
We discussed preserving the packet and its uncertain provenance.
Then I asked what Jason meant by before.
Collins said, "We need to examine the dates."
The earliest document in the packet was eight years old.
It bore my name on a loan guarantee I had never signed.
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The amount was one hundred and ten thousand dollars.
