Chương 8
“You always save him.”
Ethan flinched.
Daniel stopped reading and looked up.
I stepped out of the car.
Snow had gathered along the edge of the driveway, thin and dirty where tires had crossed it.
“I have saved him too many times.”
Madison’s eyes flashed.
“Exactly.”
“That is not the same as what you did.”
“No, what you did was cleaner.”
She descended another step.
“You wrote checks and called it love.”
Ethan looked away.
“You gave him just enough money to never learn how frightened he was of losing it.”
I felt the words land.
They hurt because they were not entirely wrong.
Daniel extended the phone back toward Ethan.
“Keep this with you.”
Madison stepped off the porch.
“Peter Vale is not my accountant.”
Ethan took the phone.
“Then who is he?”
“He arranged financing.”
“You told me North Vale came through a broker.”
“It did.”
“You told me you had never met anyone there.”
“I hadn’t when we first applied.”
“When did that change?”
She crossed her arms.
“Later.”
“How much later?”
“Why does it matter?”
“Because he emailed you about the forged resignation.”
“I didn’t forge it.”
“Then why were you involved?”
She looked toward me.
“I thought Margaret signed it.”
“You keep saying that,” I said.
“Because it’s true.”
“Then why didn’t you ask me after the bank rejected it?”
Madison’s lips parted.
No answer came.
Ethan looked at her.
“You knew.”
“I knew the stamp was a problem.”
“You knew she was still trustee.”
“I knew Brighton was being difficult.”
“Those aren’t the same thing.”
“They were for practical purposes.”
Daniel said, “No, they weren’t.”
She snapped her head toward him.
“I am done talking to you.”
“Then stop.”
His tone was almost bored.
“You keep volunteering information.”
She stared at him in disbelief.
For a second, Ethan covered his mouth as if he might laugh.
He didn’t.
Madison turned toward the house.
“I’m going inside.”
Ethan followed.
“Where is the resignation?”
“I told you.”
“The office.”
“Yes.”
“I want to see it.”
“No.”
“You said I was trustee.”
“I said we believed you would be.”
“You told people I controlled the trust.”
“That was shorthand.”
“You told North Vale.”
She stopped.
Ethan stopped behind her.
“What did you tell them?”
Madison remained still.
Snow landed in her hair.
“What did you tell them?”
She turned.
“I told them you were succeeding Margaret.”
“That is not what I asked.”
“What do you want from me?”
“I want one answer that doesn’t change after five minutes.”
Her face hardened.
“You want to blame me because you stole from your employer.”
The cruelty of it hit him visibly.
His shoulders dropped.
Madison saw it and continued.
“You want to pretend everything started with me, but I didn’t submit those fake expenses at Halpern.”
Ethan said nothing.
“You were already lying before I ever touched a trust document.”
“Stop.”
“You were already hiding things from your mother.”
“Stop.”
“You were already spending money you didn’t have.”
“Madison.”
“You were already ashamed.”
“Enough.”
The word came from me.
They both looked over.
I walked toward them.
My shoes slipped slightly on the driveway, and Ethan reached for me by instinct.
I pulled my arm away.
Not angrily.
I simply did not want help from him at that moment.
“Madison is responsible for what Madison did,” I said.
“And Ethan is responsible for what Ethan did.”
Neither answered.
“You do not get to trade crimes until one of you looks innocent.”
Ethan’s face tightened.
Madison stared past me.
“You want us to confess in the driveway?”
“No.”
“I’m not confessing to anything.”
“I didn’t ask you to.”
“Then what are you doing?”
I looked at her.
“Going home.”
This time I meant it.
Daniel pointed toward Ethan’s phone.
“Before Margaret leaves, forward that email and the attachment to your own personal account and to the attorney I’m referring you to.”
Madison’s eyes narrowed.
“You cannot advise him.”
“I can tell him to preserve evidence.”
Ethan looked at Daniel.
“Who’s the attorney?”
“I’ll text you the name.”
“I need somebody tonight.”
“You need somebody who doesn’t share representation with your wife, your company, or your lender.”
Madison said, “He doesn’t need a criminal lawyer.”
Daniel glanced at her.
“That would depend on facts I don’t have.”
For the first time, Ethan looked genuinely frightened.
“Criminal?”
Daniel’s expression softened by half a degree.
“Ethan, you admitted to unauthorized withdrawals and false invoices.”
“I didn’t create the invoices.”
“You signed some of the documents.”
“I didn’t know what they were.”
“That matters.”
“So does proving it.”
Daniel nodded.
“Yes.”
Ethan rubbed his hands over his face.
The cold had reddened his cheeks.
I looked at him and had to fight the urge to tell him everything would be all right.
That sentence had become one of the most dangerous things I knew.
“Go inside,” I said.
He lowered his hands.
“Are you going to call me tomorrow?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“I don’t know.”
His mouth tightened.
“I’ll be awake.”
“I imagine so.”
Madison walked back toward the porch.
At the door, she stopped.
“Ethan.”
He did not move.
“Come inside.”
He stared at the phone.
She waited.
For years, I had watched my son answer that tone instantly.
At restaurants.
At my house.
At family gatherings.
Not because she commanded him in some theatrical way, but because compliance had become the easiest route through a thousand small moments.
This time he remained where he was.
“I’ll come in when I’m ready.”
Madison looked at him for several seconds.
Then she went inside and closed the door.
Ethan watched it shut.
“I don’t have anywhere else to go tonight.”
I looked at him.
“This is still your house.”
“You heard what she said.”
“Yes.”
“I don’t even know if my name is on the deed anymore.”
Daniel’s head turned.
“What?”
Ethan gave him a tired look.
“I’m joking.”
No one laughed.
He sighed.
“Sorry.”
“That was a terrible joke,” I said.
May you like
“I know.”
“You’ve always been bad at them.”
