Chương 6
"My signature changes."
"Everybody's does."
Rebecca pulled the oldest return closer.
"That's why we're comparing, not pretending we're forensic document examiners."
The phrase made Leo look at her.
"You watch crime shows?"
"Too many."
"Mom hates them."
"They make everybody look competent."
"I think that's why she hates them."
Despite myself, I smiled.
It vanished when Rebecca pointed to a page.
"Is this yours?"
I bent down.
The signature looked like mine.
Almost.
The S was right.
The loop in the l was wrong.
I had written my name tens of thousands of times and never once considered that I would recognize myself through muscle memory.
"This one isn't."
Nobody moved.
Rebecca looked at the date.
Six years ago.
The same year as Julian's notebook entry.
I found the signature page from the year before.
Mine.
Then the year after.
Mine.
The questionable one sat between them like a bad tooth.
"What is that return for?"
Lily asked.
"Federal income taxes."
"I know what taxes are."
Rebecca slid the pages apart.
"There's also a Schedule B."
I looked at her.
"What does that mean?"
"It reports certain interest and dividends."
"Is that unusual?"
"Not necessarily."
She scanned the form.
Then her eyebrows drew together.
"Do you know what Vance Family Education Holdings LLC is?"
"No."
Rebecca went very quiet.
Leo leaned forward.
"Is that the trust?"
"I don't know."
"You keep saying that."
"Because I actually don't know."
She tapped a line with her nail.
"But this entity paid interest."
"To us?"
"According to this."
I looked at the number.
It wasn't enormous.
A few thousand dollars.
Enough to notice.
Enough that I would have remembered.
"I never saw that money."
"Could've stayed in an account."
"What account?"
Rebecca turned to me.
"That's the problem."
My phone rang again.
Not Julian this time.
The screen showed an unfamiliar South Carolina number.
Rebecca saw the area code.
"That's Hilton Head."
I let it ring twice.
Then I answered.
"Hello?"
A woman's voice said my name.
Not cautiously.
Not like a stranger.
Like someone who had said it often when I wasn't there.
"Sloan?"
I knew Eleanor immediately.
My knees weakened so abruptly I sat down.
"Yes."
The other end went silent.
Then she made a sound that seemed to catch in her throat.
"Oh."
Rebecca looked away.
Eleanor spoke again.
"I wasn't sure he'd given me the right number."
"Who?"
"Grant."
My eyes moved to Rebecca.
Her expression sharpened.
"Where is Julian?"
I asked.
"Upstairs."
"At the house?"
"Yes."
"He told me he was driving."
"He was when they arrived."
I looked at the clock.
It had been less than an hour since the call.
"Is he there now?"
"Yes."
A murmur of voices sounded behind Eleanor.
Then a door closed.
"Sloan, I don't know what has happened."
Neither did I.
Yet somehow I was already tired of that sentence.
"I found your letters."
Eleanor inhaled.
"All of them?"
"I think so."
"Then he kept them."
It was not a question.
Something inside me shifted at the certainty in her voice.
"You suspected that?"
"For years."
"Why didn't you do something?"
Rebecca winced.
Eleanor did not answer immediately.
When she did, her voice sounded smaller.
"I did badly."
That was not what I expected.
"I called."
"I wrote."
"I sent packages."
"I asked Julian."
"I asked Grant."
"I asked Rebecca."
"I even hired a courier once."
"A courier?"
"Seven years ago."
"I never got anything."
"I know."
"How do you know?"
"Because Julian brought the package back."
My fingers went cold.
"He said you refused delivery."
Rebecca swore softly.
Eleanor heard her.
"Rebecca is there."
"Yes."
Another silence.
"Good."
It was the first warm word Eleanor had spoken.
Then she said, "Are the children there too?"
Lily nodded even though Eleanor couldn't see her.
"Yes."
I heard Eleanor breathe in.
"May I speak to them?"
The request hit me harder than anything else that day.
For years, I had imagined this woman as imperious, cold, offended by our existence.
Now she was asking permission to speak to her grandchildren.
Lily looked at me.
Leo looked down.
"I need a minute," I said.
"Of course."
There was no irritation.
No demand.
No wounded performance.
Just that.
Of course.
My throat tightened.
"Why did Julian keep us apart?"
Eleanor exhaled slowly.
"I have theories."
"Rebecca has theories too."
"They may overlap."
"I need facts."
"Then we should begin with the trusts."
Rebecca closed her eyes.
Leo sat up straighter.
"What about them?"
I asked.
"The accounts for Lily and Leo were never meant to be controlled by Julian."
"What do you mean?"
"They were established under a custodial structure with me as trustee until certain conditions were met."
"Which conditions?"
"Education-related distributions could be requested by a parent or guardian."
"Requested how?"
"Forms."
My eyes dropped to the questionable tax return.
"What kind of forms?"
"Signed forms."
The room seemed to contract.
"Did Julian submit them?"
"Yes."
"For what?"
"Tuition."
"Whose tuition?"
Eleanor paused.
"Lily's."
Lily looked at me.
"Mom."
"She's in public school."
I said it too loudly.
Eleanor was silent.
Then very quietly, "I know that now."
Leo pushed his chair back.
"How much?"
I shook my head at him.
He ignored me.
"How much did Dad take?"
Eleanor heard him.
Her voice changed.
"Leo?"
He went still.
"Yeah."
"Oh, honey."
His face tightened.
"Don't."
Eleanor stopped immediately.
"I'm sorry."
"How much?"
"Not on the phone."
"Why?"
"Because I don't have the records in front of me."
"Grandma."
The word escaped him before he could decide whether to use it.
Eleanor made another small sound.
Leo looked furious with himself.
"I need to know."
He stared at the table.
That answer seemed to frustrate him, but he did not argue.
I understood why.
Julian always had an answer.
Eleanor had limits.
For the first time, limits felt safer.
"Was money taken from both accounts?"
I asked.
"Yes."
"How much?"
"I can give you an estimate."
May you like
"Give me the estimate."
"Just under one hundred and eighty thousand dollars combined."
