Chương 10
“I have records.”
Claire said nothing.
“From Thomas.”
“What records?”
“Old ledgers.”
“Why do you have them?”
“Because after he accused me of stealing, I started keeping copies.”
Claire sat down.
“You knew he suspected you.”
“Yes.”
“And you never told me.”
“You were twenty-seven.”
“I was an adult.”
“You were pregnant.”
Claire closed her eyes.
There it was again.
Protection.
The Morgan family’s favorite word for deciding what other people were allowed to know.
“Bring them.”
Edward did.
The ledgers changed everything again.
Victoria had diverted more money than she admitted.
Almost $1.8 million over twenty-seven years.
Some protected Anna.
Some supported Samuel.
Some paid for Daniel.
Nearly $600,000 had gone elsewhere.
Victoria refused to explain it.
Claire’s attorney told her that old records, corporate structures, statutes of limitation, tax treatment and the distinction between company and personal assets made the legal picture complicated.
Claire almost laughed.
Complicated.
Another family word.
She did not want a prosecution.
She did not want a scandal.
She did not want silence.
For the first time, she understood how those three desires could exist together and make a person useless.
Samuel refused to participate.
“This is your family company,” he told her.
“It’s connected to you.”
“I didn’t ask for it.”
“That doesn’t mean it doesn’t affect you.”
“I spent forty-one years building a life that doesn’t require the Morgans.”
Claire flinched.
Samuel heard it.
“I didn’t mean you.”
“You did.”
A pause.
“Maybe.”
“Okay.”
“You’re not going to argue?”
“I’m trying something new.”
“What?”
“Being tolerable.”
Samuel laughed.
They spoke twice a week after that.
Sometimes about the files.
More often not.
Samuel complained about a student who insisted the Louisiana Purchase happened during the Civil War.
Claire told him about the stolen yogurt.
He sent a photograph of Gerald, who was enormous and looked disappointed by civilization.
Lily asked who the dog belonged to.
Claire told her.
Not everything.
Enough.
“You have another brother?” Lily asked.
“Apparently.”
“Is he my uncle?”
Claire considered it.
“If he wants to be.”
Lily nodded.
“Does he like horses?”
“I don’t know.”
“That’s important.”
“I’ll ask.”
Samuel did not like horses.
Lily decided this was a serious character flaw.
Victoria did not contact Lily.
She sent Claire one message every Sunday.
May I ask how she is?
Claire usually answered:
She’s fine.
On the fourth Sunday she wrote:
She got 18/20 on her spelling test and claims “necessary” has too many letters.
Victoria replied:
She is correct.
Claire showed Lily.
Lily laughed.
Then her face changed.
“Can Grandma come over?”
Claire put down the phone.
“Do you want her to?”
“I don’t know.”
“That’s okay.”
“Is she still bad?”
Claire looked at her daughter.
“No.”
Lily frowned.
Claire tried again.
“What Grandma did was bad.”
“Really bad?”
“Yes.”
“But she isn’t bad?”
“People are harder than that.”
Lily considered this with visible dissatisfaction.
“That’s annoying.”
“Yes.”
“Can she be sorry?”
“She can.”
“Does that fix it?”
“No.”
Lily thought again.
“Then what does?”
Claire had no answer.
“Maybe nothing fixes it. Maybe some things get repaired instead.”
“What’s the difference?”
“Repairs show.”
Lily looked at her.
Claire touched the faint scar on the silver photograph frame, where the impact against the gate had dented one corner.
“Sometimes you can still see where something broke.”
Lily nodded slowly.
Then she asked for cereal.
Six weeks after the wedding, Claire discovered where the missing $600,000 had gone.
Not through Daniel’s files.
Through Edward.
He found an account among Thomas’s old records.
The payments had gone to six former Morgan House employees.
All women.
Claire felt ill before she knew why.
Three agreed to speak with the attorney.
Two refused.
One was dead.
Their stories were not identical.
That mattered.
One described harassment.
One described an affair she initially considered consensual but later said became coercive when she tried to end it.
One described Thomas cornering her in a hotel room during a conference.
Victoria had paid each woman privately.
Sometimes to leave.
Sometimes for lawyers.
Sometimes because they lost jobs after refusing Thomas.
Claire drove to her mother’s house that evening.
Victoria opened the door.
Claire held up copies of the records.
“You could have told me.”
Victoria looked at them.
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because they are not my stories to tell.”
Claire stopped.
It was the first answer Victoria gave that Claire could not immediately reject.
“You used company money.”
“Yes.”
“You forged signatures.”
“Yes.”
“You let Edward live under suspicion.”
Victoria’s face tightened.
“Yes.”
“You lied.”
“Yes.”
“You protected Dad.”
Victoria looked at her.
“I protected women from him.”
“And protected him from consequences.”
“Yes.”
Both were true.
That was the unbearable part.
Claire entered the house.
Nothing had changed.
The same silver bowl stood on the entry table.
The same ridiculous arrangement of white flowers filled the living room.
Thomas’s portrait still hung above the fireplace.
Claire stared at it.
“Take that down.”
Victoria followed her gaze.
“No.”
Claire turned.
“Why?”
“Because removing a painting does not alter history.”
“It alters the living room.”
A strange sound escaped Victoria.
Almost a laugh.
Claire looked at her.
Victoria looked embarrassed.
For some reason that made Claire laugh too.
It lasted only a moment.
Then Claire sat.
“What do you want?” Victoria asked.
“I want you to resign from the foundation.”
Victoria became still.
“I see.”
“I’m not finished.”
“Of course not.”
“I want an independent audit of Harrow Street and every related account.”
Victoria nodded once.
“I want the company to establish a process for claims connected to Dad that doesn’t require anyone to go public.”
Victoria looked at her sharply.
“You’ve spoken to counsel.”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
“Mine.”
“Claire.”
“You don’t get to choose my attorney.”
Victoria sat opposite her.
“And Samuel?”
“He wants nothing.”
“He deserves something.”
“He deserves to decide what he wants.”
Victoria looked away.
Claire continued.
“I’m not taking over the foundation.”
That surprised her.
“You agreed.”
“I changed my mind.”
May you like
“Because of this?”
“Because I don’t want my life to become cleaning up after Dad.”
