Chapter 4 - The Trust Nobody Mentioned
My grandmother had been dead for eleven years.
Her name was Evelyn Holloway.
She had raised me for almost half my childhood while Mom traveled with Lily for dance competitions and Dad built his real-estate consulting business.
Grandma taught me to read contracts before I was old enough to understand why people lied inside them.
She also adored her apartment.
Not my penthouse.
A brownstone on West Seventy-Eighth Street.
Three months before she died, Dad told us she had sold it to pay medical bills.
I had never questioned him.
Until now.
I showed Mercer the message.
His expression hardened.
“Do you recognize the number?”
“No.”
“Don’t respond.”
He photographed the screen.
Lily was sitting at a nearby table, still wearing her wedding dress.
Her veil had been removed.
Mascara streaked beneath her eyes.
Andrew had been taken downstairs.
Mom refused to look at anyone.
Dad was suddenly very interested in calling his attorney.
I walked toward him.
“What happened to Grandma’s trust?”
He looked up too quickly.
“What?”
“Her trust.”
“There was no trust.”
“Interesting.”
I held up the phone.
“Someone thinks there was.”
Dad stood.
“Claire, you have no idea what you’re doing.”
“Then explain it.”
“She left debts.”
“She owned a brownstone outright.”
“It was sold.”
“To whom?”
His silence lasted one second too long.
Mercer stepped beside me.
“Mr. Holloway, that is a useful question.”
Dad glared at him.
“You have a warrant concerning Claire’s apartment.”
Mercer smiled without warmth.
“And fraud investigations have a habit of expanding.”
Mom suddenly spoke.
“Robert, tell her.”
Dad turned.
“Margaret.”
“Tell her.”
“Be quiet.”
Mom’s hands trembled.
“For once, tell her the truth.”
I felt something inside me turn cold.
“What truth?”
Mom looked at me.
“Your grandmother did have a trust.”
Dad slammed his fist against the table.
“Enough.”
Every guest remaining in the ballroom jumped.
Mom did not.
“She left property to Claire.”
I could barely hear my own voice.
“What property?”
Mom stared at me.
“The brownstone.”
My stomach dropped.
Dad stepped toward her.
“You have no idea what you’re saying.”
“And shares.”
Mom kept talking.
“Some company stock.”
“What company?”
Dad grabbed her wrist.
Mercer immediately moved between them.
“Take your hand off her.”
Dad released her.
Mom looked directly at me.
“Your grandmother left you more than the brownstone.”
“How much?”
Mom’s lips shook.
“I don’t know anymore.”
Dad whispered.
“Margaret.”
She began sobbing.
May you like
“But Robert said if you ever found out, we could lose everything.”
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