Chương 10
Nobody answered.
Arthur looked toward Maribel.
Maribel stared back.
“No.”
Arthur said, “You had access.”
“So did Celia.”
Celia frowned.
“I never gave Alina credentials.”
Maribel’s voice sharpened.
“You met with her three weeks ago.”
“To discuss Peter.”
“And the account.”
“No.”
Maribel laughed.
“You expect me to believe that?”
Celia stood again.
“You want desperately for this to be her fault.”
“I want to know why money moved.”
Leandro cut between them.
“Did you meet with Alina three weeks ago?”
Celia looked at him.
“Yes.”
“Did you discuss the reserve?”
“No.”
“What did you discuss?”
Celia’s face tightened.
“Her father.”
Leandro frowned.
“Peter.”
“Yes.”
“What about him?”
“She wanted him moved.”
“Moved where?”
“Closer to Portland.”
“Why?”
“She said the facility was neglecting him.”
Maribel shook her head.
“She wanted control of his benefits.”
Celia turned.
“You don’t know that.”
“I saw the forms.”
Celia went still.
Leandro looked at Maribel.
“What forms?”
“Guardianship paperwork.”
Arthur’s expression sharpened.
“Filed?”
“No.”
“Drafted?”
“Yes.”
Celia looked genuinely surprised.
“Where did you see them?”
Maribel did not answer.
Celia’s eyes narrowed.
“You were in her apartment.”
Maribel’s silence was enough.
Leandro stared at her.
“You broke into Alina’s apartment?”
“No.”
Celia stepped toward her.
“How did you see private guardianship forms?”
Maribel’s face remained rigid.
“She left them out.”
“Where?”
Maribel swallowed.
“In her kitchen.”
Celia stared.
“You were in her kitchen.”
Maribel looked away.
Leandro’s anger returned.
“What the hell were you doing there?”
Maribel’s voice dropped.
“Trying to stop her.”
“From what?”
“From taking Peter out of the facility.”
Celia’s expression changed.
“Why would you care?”
Maribel looked at her.
“Because he can’t survive that move.”
Celia’s face went pale.
“How do you know?”
Maribel hesitated.
Then she sat down.
For the first time all evening, she looked smaller than the furniture around her.
“I’ve been paying for part of his care.”
Celia stared.
“What?”
Estelle lowered the letter.
Maribel’s eyes remained on the rug.
“For four years.”
Leandro’s voice went quiet.
“Why?”
Maribel swallowed.
“Because your father stopped.”
Celia stared at Maribel as if she had misheard.
“Stopped when?”
“About six months before he died.”
“That’s impossible.”
“No.”
Celia shook her head.
“I was still processing payments after that.”
“Not for Peter.”
Celia’s face tightened.
Maribel looked up.
“He reduced the care account and redirected the difference somewhere else.”
“To where?”
“I never found out.”
Leandro stepped away from the desk.
“And you covered it yourself.”
“For a while.”
“How much?”
Maribel rubbed the side of her thumb against one knuckle.
“Enough.”
“Maribel.”
She looked at him.
“About forty-eight thousand over four years.”
Estelle stared at her.
“You paid forty-eight thousand dollars for the care of a man my husband injured.”
Maribel’s mouth tightened.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I just told you.”
“No.”
Estelle’s voice was quiet.
“You told me what you did.”
Maribel looked away.
The library clock ticked twice.
Daphne shifted beside the sofa, suddenly aware of the lateness of the hour and the unreality of still being in uniform inside a family argument that had crossed three decades.
Maribel took a breath.
“The facility called your husband after one payment failed.”
Celia frowned.
“They had my number.”
“They called both.”
Maribel looked at Celia.
“He didn’t answer.”
“And you did.”
“Yes.”
“Why was your number on the account?”
Maribel’s expression tightened.
“Because by then he had started using me as a buffer.”
Celia’s eyes sharpened.
“For everything?”
“For things he didn’t want reaching Estelle or Leandro.”
Leandro gave a dry laugh.
“So you became his firewall.”
Maribel flinched.
“That isn’t how I thought of it.”
“How did you think of it?”
She looked at him.
“As cleaning up.”
Estelle’s face changed.
Maribel saw it.
“Yes,” she said softly.
“I hear it.”
Leandro paced toward the bookshelves and back.
“And when he stopped paying, you kept Peter in the facility.”
“Yes.”
“Without telling anyone.”
“Yes.”
“Of course.”
Maribel’s jaw tightened.
“I was trying to prevent harm.”
“That sentence is getting crowded tonight.”
Maribel looked down.
Leandro regretted the remark almost as soon as he said it.
Almost.
Celia sat back slowly.
“Why didn’t the facility call me?”
Maribel answered.
“Because the billing contact had been changed.”
Celia’s expression hardened.
“To you.”
“Yes.”
“By him.”
“Yes.”
Celia stood.
“You took over my brother’s care without telling me.”
“No.”
“You paid the bills and changed the contact.”
“He changed the contact.”
“And you accepted it.”
Maribel stood too.
“Because someone had to make sure Peter wasn’t thrown into a lower-level facility.”
Celia’s voice rose for the first time.
“You do not get to decide what happens to my brother.”
Maribel’s face sharpened.
“Then where were you when the invoices stopped?”
Celia recoiled.
Estelle said, “Enough.”
Neither woman listened.
Celia stepped closer.
“I was working.”
“So was I.”
“I was supporting him.”
“Not enough.”
The words came too fast.
Maribel heard them after they were spoken.
Celia went still.
Daphne looked down.
Leandro closed his eyes.
Estelle’s voice turned cold.
“You will not use money as proof that you cared more.”
Maribel looked at her.
Estelle held her gaze.
“Not in this room.”
Maribel sat again.
The anger drained out of her face, leaving embarrassment behind.
Celia remained standing for several seconds before returning to the sofa.
Arthur cleared his throat.
“The immediate issue is still the attempted transfer.”
Leandro looked at him.
“Yes.”
Arthur adjusted his glasses.
“If the transfer has been halted, we need to preserve the account and determine who initiated it.”
Celia nodded.
“There should be access logs.”
“Do you have them?”
“Not full logs.”
“Who does?”
“The bank’s trust operations department.”
Arthur checked his phone.
“Martin is calling their counsel now.”
Leandro’s jaw tightened.
“I said stand by.”
Arthur looked at him.
“I decided that was no longer sufficient.”
Leandro stared at him.
Arthur did not look away.
“You can fire me from the board tomorrow if you like.”
“This isn’t the board.”
“No.”
Arthur’s voice softened.
“It’s worse.”
May you like
Estelle watched Leandro absorb that.
He finally nodded.
