Chapter 6 - My Sister's Perfect Life
Claire's engagement party photos covered the society pages. She was the smiling face of the Renewal Fund, pictured holding shovels beside celebrities and children in new winter coats. I had designed the original housing proposal; she had delivered the speeches.
When I called her, she answered with a sigh. "If this is about the gala, I didn't decide the program."
"Dad says Ashdown will take you down with him."
Silence.
"How much do you know?" I asked.
"Stop calling me."
I found her at a bridal salon on Westlake Avenue. Through the glass I saw her standing in a white gown while Evan watched from a velvet bench. His expression changed when I entered.
"Sophie," he said. "Are you okay?"
"That's the first time you've asked me that since Thursday."
Claire signaled the attendant to leave. "Don't ruin this too."
"What did Ashdown buy?"
"You're not entitled to walk in here and interrogate me."
"Dad put your name in a text about a missing eight hundred thousand dollars."
Evan stood. "Claire?"
She stared at me with the same icy expression she'd worn at the gala. Then something cracked.
"I signed a sponsorship agreement," she said. "A publicity arrangement. Dad said Ashdown was underwriting the Eastbank apartments."
"Have you seen the apartments?"
"The work hasn't started."
"People are still living in damaged homes."
"I know that."
"You signed anyway."
"I was supposed to get married in five weeks. Dad promised a career in the foundation. What was I supposed to do?"
"Ask one question."
Evan stepped between us. "What exactly did you sign?"
She shook her head. "It doesn't matter."
"It matters to me."
At his tone, she finally looked frightened. She took a tablet from the dressing-room counter and opened a scanned contract. The signature page displayed her name above an authorization to license design assets developed for Harbor House.
My design assets.
"Claire," I said carefully, "you sold plans you didn't own."
"Dad said the foundation owned them."
"He knew it didn't. Grandma made sure of that."
Evan read down the page. "This clause lets Ashdown demolish the existing shelter site and use the land for private development."
Claire blinked. "No. That's not what he told me."
May you like
I enlarged the map attached to the contract. The parcel outlined in red was Harbor Street. The warehouse. The trust's last property.
At the bottom, marked as an anticipated closing date, were the words: TOMORROW, 9:00 A.M.
