Chapter 12 - The One Who Signed
I waited for Eleanor in a meeting room with plain white walls. In her green dress, far from the mansion, Eleanor looked smaller. She was still the woman who'd watched her son hurt me and said nothing.
I slid the bank card across the table.
"Why is your signature here?"
She looked at it. "Because Arthur asked me to sign when Marcus needed another authorized person."
"Did you know what the money paid for?"
"Not at first."
"When did you find out?"
Her eyes filled. I waited.
"Two years ago," she whispered. "There were letters about the broken heaters. I told Marcus to take care of it. He said the inspectors exaggerated."
"And you believed him?"
"I chose to."
That answer was uglier than a rehearsed denial, and I respected her enough to let it stand.
Marcus had threatened their home and controlled their care accounts. Eleanor had accepted the bargain: silence in exchange for comfort.
"I called you needy," she said. "I made you feel unwelcome in your own home. I thought if I stayed on his good side, none of us would suffer."
"Except me. And the tenants."
She nodded.
Mara joined us, took Eleanor's statement, and explained that turning over records would not guarantee protection from consequences. Eleanor agreed anyway. She identified the meetings and the assistant who prepared the signatures.
As Eleanor rose to leave, she reached toward my hand. I stepped back. Her fingers froze in midair.
"I don't need you to forgive me," she said quietly. "I only wanted you to hear me tell the truth for once."
This time I believed her.
That night I slept almost five straight hours. I woke to Dani pounding on my bedroom door.
"Ivy, get up. Mara's on the phone."
I took it, still half asleep.
May you like
"Elijah didn't come home," Mara said. "His sister says he took Milo out of school yesterday. Nobody can reach him."
The flash drive suddenly felt very small.
