Chapter 3 - Someone Was Watching
We did not sleep much that night.
Elias contacted the trustee and arranged for the documents to be scanned in front of Grandma.
He also asked us not to confront anyone about the hidden cabinet until he could verify the originals.
"Is Dad watching the house?" I asked.
"We don't know," Elias said.
"But we should act as though our privacy has already been compromised."
He recommended changing passwords, replacing the old door codes and checking who had access to the home monitoring app.
Grandma looked embarrassed.
"Richard installed that system for me."
That was all I needed to hear.
The security company confirmed that Dad still had administrator access.
A second account, listed under an unfamiliar email address, had viewed the camera facing the study door shortly before his text.
When the technician disabled both accounts, my phone rang again.
Dad did not bother with a greeting.
"You've changed the cameras."
"Grandma changed her cameras," I said.
"You are making her paranoid."
"You were watching her."
"I was checking that she was safe."
"Then why did you tell me to put the files back?"
He went silent.
I could hear other voices behind him.
"Tell her those papers are worthless," a man said faintly.
Dad moved the phone.
"Don't call me again until you're ready to apologize."
He hung up.
The man in the background had sounded unfamiliar, but the words stayed with me.
Worthless papers.
People don't panic over worthless papers.
At breakfast, Grandma spread the old photographs across the table.
They showed Grandpa at the original warehouse, sleeves rolled to the elbows, smiling next to employees who had built the business alongside him.
One photograph included a young Benjamin Hart standing slightly apart from the group.
Grandma tapped his face.
"He used to come to Sunday dinner."
"When did that stop?"
"After William died. Richard said Benjamin was handling a complicated transition."
She paused.
"A few months later, he told me Benjamin had moved away."
Elias called with news before noon.
Hart had not moved away.
He operated a small tax practice forty miles north, and he had recently submitted a valuation connected to a planned sale of Carter Industrial's property rights.
"What sale?" Grandma asked.
"That's the question," Elias said.
He explained that the trust still owned the building but Richard's company occupied it under a lease.
A sale of the operating business might be legitimate, but Dad could not transfer the trust-owned real estate simply because he occupied it.
Someone had apparently represented that he could.
At two o'clock, Aunt Monica came to the house alone.
She was still wearing a bracelet from the trip.
Grandma asked her to sit down.
Monica remained standing.
"Mom, you've scared everyone."
"I was frightened at the airport," Grandma answered.
"You told me not to be dramatic."
Monica flinched.
"We were stressed."
"You had six tickets and I had none."
"Richard handled the booking."
"You knew."
Monica's eyes filled with tears.
For one brief moment I wondered whether she might tell the truth.
Then she turned toward me.
"You've poisoned her against us."
Grandma's voice sharpened.
"My granddaughter stayed when you walked away."
Monica looked genuinely startled to hear her mother raise her voice.
She put an envelope on the table.
"I'm offering to repay my portion of the trip. If you sign this acknowledgment, we can get back to normal."
Elias, who had remained quietly in the adjoining room, stepped into the doorway.
"I'll review that."
Monica grabbed for the envelope.
But Grandma had already opened it.
The document did not simply acknowledge a repayment.
It released Richard, Monica and their companies from every financial claim arising before the date of signature.
Grandma read the paragraph aloud.
Her hands did not shake.
"You came to ask me to forgive theft I haven't even discovered yet."
Monica stopped crying instantly.
"You don't understand what happens if you don't sign."
"Then explain it."
Monica looked toward the study.
"Richard has already promised the building to someone else."
The room went still.
May you like
And for the first time, Monica seemed to realize she had said too much.
