Chapter 5 - WHAT JULIAN KNEW
Julian poured himself coffee after Eleanor left.
His hands shook.
“I need to tell you something.”
I waited.
He stared into the cup.
“I heard Mom talk about Clara before.”
My jaw tightened.
“When?”
“Months ago.”
“What did she say?”
“That Clara trapped you with the baby.”
“And you said nothing?”
“I told her she was wrong.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
Julian looked ashamed.
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because Mom has always talked like that.”
I stared at him.
He continued.
“Dad’s relatives.”
“Your girlfriends.”
“My girlfriends.”
“Employees.”
“She always says people want something.”
“You get used to it.”
“No.”
My voice hardened.
“You chose to stop noticing.”
He looked down.
I knew that because I had done the same thing.
Our mother’s cruelty had always been wrapped in concern.
She criticized people because she was “protective.”
She demanded loyalty because she had “sacrificed.”
She controlled because she “cared.”
Success had allowed me to stop seeing the pattern.
Julian had never escaped it.
“Did you know about the guardianship papers?”
“No.”
“Gerald?”
“I knew he visited Mom.”
“How often?”
“Once or twice a week.”
“That often?”
Julian nodded.
“Usually when you traveled.”
“What did they discuss?”
“I don’t know.”
Then he hesitated.
“What?”
“There was one thing.”
I waited.
“Mom asked me to sign a document last year.”
My skin chilled.
“What document?”
“She said it was related to Dad’s estate.”
“Did you read it?”
“No.”
I closed my eyes.
Of course he had not.
“What did it say?”
“I don’t remember.”
Daniel pulled out his phone.
“We’ll find it.”
Julian looked frightened.
“Sebastian, did Dad really leave us everything equally?”
The question caught me off guard.
“What?”
“Mom always said Dad wanted you to control the company because I wasn’t responsible.”
“That’s what the will said.”
“I never saw the original.”
Neither had I.
Gerald had read it after our father’s death.
I had received controlling ownership of the small trucking company my father owned.
Julian received cash, property, and a minority stake.
At the time, the business was barely surviving.
No one imagined it would become the foundation of Vance Logistics.
Daniel looked at both of us.
“When did your father die?”
“Thirteen years ago.”
“Who drafted the will?”
“Gerald.”
Daniel’s expression changed.
“Who witnessed it?”
I did not know.
That afternoon, we requested the probate archive.
The original will was missing.
Only a certified copy remained.
Daniel studied it.
“This is unusual.”
“What?”
“The witness page was replaced in the scanned record.”
“Can you prove that?”
“Maybe.”
Then Julian pointed to the date.
“My father was in the hospital that day.”
I looked at him.
“You remember?”
“It was my twentieth birthday.”
My stomach tightened.
The will had supposedly been signed at Gerald’s office.
My father had been hospitalized across the city.
Daniel leaned back.
“If this will was forged, we have a much bigger problem.”
Julian whispered, “Why would Mom forge Dad’s will?”
I already suspected the answer.
Control.
But Daniel found something even more disturbing.
A month before my father died, he had written a letter to a different attorney.
The letter contained one sentence about Eleanor.
If anything happens to me, my sons must never allow their mother to control the company.
I read it twice.
Then a third time.
May you like
My father had been afraid of her.
And thirteen years later, I was finally beginning to understand why.
