Chương 7
“I want you in Walter’s room tonight,” Ava said.
Derek stared at her.
“This isn’t punishment. I can’t sleep beside you.”
“We should stay with the kids.”
“I’m staying.”
“Ava.”
“Please don’t make me ask twice.”
He gathered his phone and wallet. At the door, he paused.
“I never wanted any of this.”
“I believe you.”
The relief on his face lasted less than a second.
“That doesn’t make it better,” she said.
In the morning, Walter was gone.
He had checked out at 5:12. A rideshare receipt later showed he traveled to the lake house, then to the regional airport, where he rented a car. He did not answer calls.
Derek wanted to follow him.
Ava refused.
“You don’t know where he went.”
“His office. Home. The storage unit.”
“You’re guessing.”
“He could be destroying records.”
“Then call him and leave a message telling him not to.”
“He won’t listen.”
“Exactly. So do not help him later claim we coordinated.”
Derek looked at Marcus. “You’ve turned her into a prosecutor overnight.”
Marcus closed his laptop. “I haven’t turned her into anything.”
“This isn’t your family.”
“No,” Marcus said. “It’s my job.”
Derek stepped toward him.
Ava moved between them. “Enough.”
Ethan watched from the hotel bed, pretending to tie his shoes.
The adults stopped.
That was the first practical consequence the children understood: the room could be changed by their attention. Ethan tied and untied the same lace while Derek apologized to Marcus. Lily folded the property record Marcus had printed and slipped it into the photograph frame, as if evidence belonged with the image that had exposed it.
They drove home in separate cars. Marcus sat with Ava again. Derek took the children. Ava had resisted that arrangement until Lily quietly asked to ride with her father. The request embarrassed Ava because she had been treating proximity as loyalty.
Halfway home, Marcus received an alert from the accounting system.
“Someone is trying to export the archive,” he said.
“Who?”
“Walter’s administrator login.”
“Can you stop it?”
“I can disable the account.”
“Do it.”
Marcus hesitated.
“What?”
“He’s still board chair.”
“And I’m chief executive.”
“The bylaws give him emergency authority over legacy entities.”
“Does that include our current servers?”
“No.”
“Disable him.”
Marcus did.
Three minutes later, Walter called Ava.
“You locked me out of my own company.”
“You tried to export records.”
“I was preserving them.”
“From whom?”
“From your employee.”
“Marcus has preservation instructions from the estate attorney.”
“Naomi’s attorney has no authority over Mercer records.”
“Then you have nothing to fear from them remaining where they are.”
Walter’s breathing filled the line.
“You are making decisions you cannot reverse,” he said.
“So are you.”
“I gave you that company.”
“You asked me to save it.”
“And I made you wealthy.”
Ava looked through the windshield at the highway unspooling ahead.
“With Evelyn Shaw’s money?”
Walter ended the call.
By noon, he had contacted two board members and described Ava as emotionally unstable after a family dispute. One called Marcus to ask whether Ava was taking medication. The other texted Derek.
Derek sent Ava a screenshot from the children’s car.
Dad says you’re trying to seize the company.
Ava replied: Do not engage while driving.
Derek sent back: I’m parked.
Ava typed, Tell him the board will receive a written notice.
Then she erased it.
What she wanted was for Derek to defend her without being instructed. What she needed was a record that did not turn a marriage argument into corporate evidence.
She wrote: Forward everything to Marcus.
At home, the front porch was crowded with packages intended for the lake house: towels, pantry containers, life jackets, a telescope Ethan had chosen after Walter promised the stars were clearer over the water. Ava stood among the boxes while Marcus carried in the luggage.
A neighbor waved from across the street.
“How was the new place?” she called.
Ava raised a hand. “Short trip.”
The neighbor laughed. “That good, huh?”
For one dangerous second, Ava wanted to walk across the lawn and tell her everything. The false house. The dead woman. The money. The photograph. Public confession seemed easier than private uncertainty because strangers could only react once.
Instead, she carried a box of blue towels into the garage.
The children went upstairs. Derek remained in the driveway.
“We need to talk,” he said.
“We need to work.”
“I’m not an employee.”
“No. Employees are required to disclose conflicts.”
His mouth tightened. “You said you were sorry for being cruel.”
“I was.”
“Past tense?”
Ava leaned against the garage workbench. The ordinary clutter made the conversation feel worse: a half-empty bag of grass seed, Ethan’s bicycle helmet, three jars of screws Walter had sorted by size. Walter had installed the shelves himself after calling the contractor incompetent.
“Did you sign anything related to Evelyn?” she asked.
Derek looked toward the open garage door.
“Close it,” he said.
She did.
He reached into his wallet and removed a folded piece of paper. It was not the original, only a photocopy reduced to fit.
Ava unfolded it.
The document was titled Acknowledgment of Family Advance. It stated that Walter Mercer had advanced eight hundred thousand dollars to Derek and Ava for the purchase and renovation of their home. It included a repayment waiver upon Walter’s death.
At the bottom were Derek’s signature and a line for Ava’s.
Her line was blank.
“When?” she asked.
“Three years ago.”
“Why didn’t I sign?”
“Dad said one spouse was enough.”
“Why did you?”
“He said his estate plan needed it.”
“Where did the eight hundred thousand come from?”
“I thought from the sale of the warehouse.”
“The warehouse sold for five hundred and twenty.”
“I didn’t know the amount.”
“You were listed as vice president of Mercer Construction.”
“I didn’t run finance.”
“You signed an acknowledgment for money we received.”
“We did receive it.”
“Not from him.”
May you like
Derek looked at the paper. “I don’t know.”
“Why keep this in your wallet?”
