Chapter 13 - The Ledger
Dad was found alive before sunrise.
A jogger discovered him beneath an abandoned pier.
He had a concussion, two broken ribs, and a deep cut above his eye.
When I entered the hospital room, he looked twenty years older.
For the first time in my life, Robert Holloway seemed small.
He looked at me.
“Is Lily safe?”
“Yes.”
His eyes closed in relief.
“Your mother?”
“Gone.”
He laughed once.
It sounded bitter.
“Of course she is.”
I stayed near the doorway.
“Tell me everything.”
Dad stared at the ceiling.
“I thought I could control her.”
“That is not everything.”
“No.”
He swallowed.
“Your grandmother caught Margaret stealing.”
I froze.
“Not you?”
“I helped cover it up.”
“Why?”
“Because your mother had already moved almost four hundred thousand dollars through accounts connected to my business.”
“And you decided protecting her mattered more than Grandma.”
“I thought I could repay it.”
“But you didn’t.”
“No.”
“Instead you stole more.”
His eyes filled with shame.
“Yes.”
I wanted to hate him.
Part of me already did.
But another part remembered being six years old and sitting on his shoulders during a Thanksgiving parade.
People were complicated.
That did not make them innocent.
“Why did Grandma leave me the trust?”
“She suspected both of us.”
“Both?”
“I lied to protect Margaret.”
“So Grandma stopped trusting you.”
“Yes.”
Dad looked toward the window.
“She created a separate trust.”
“How much was originally in it?”
“About six million.”
Mercer had said it was now worth almost nineteen.
“And you tried to access it.”
“Years later.”
“Why?”
“Margaret convinced me we needed it.”
“You always say she convinced you.”
He looked at me.
“You’re right.”
The admission surprised me.
“I chose it.”
Silence filled the room.
“What is she trying to do now?”
Dad’s face changed.
“There’s a ledger.”
“What ledger?”
“Your grandmother kept records.”
“Of the theft?”
“Everything.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know.”
“Mom does?”
“She has spent eleven years looking for it.”
Dad’s breathing became shallower.
“She believed your grandmother hid it inside one of the assets assigned to you.”
My mind moved immediately to the brownstone.
Dad shook his head.
“Not there.”
“Then where?”
He looked straight at me.
“Your penthouse.”
I frowned.
“Grandma never owned my penthouse.”
“No.”
He swallowed.
“But she knew the woman who did.”
“What?”
“She arranged your purchase.”
The room seemed to tilt.
“My first property case paid for that apartment.”
“It paid for part of it.”
“What are you saying?”
“Your grandmother left instructions with an attorney.”
“Which attorney?”
Dad looked toward Mercer.
Then back at me.
“Daniel Mercer’s father.”
I turned.
Mercer was standing behind me.
May you like
And for the first time since I met him, he looked like a man who had been keeping something from me.
---
