Chapter 6 - My Brother’s Offer
Garrick showed up that evening with flowers and a bag from Lily’s favorite bakery, wearing the wounded expression he used when he wanted to seem misunderstood.
“I’m here to make this right,” he said.
I stayed in the doorway. “You sent me a threat this afternoon.”
His eyes flicked away. “That wasn’t me.”
“Then you won’t mind if I show it to Natalie.”
He swallowed. I stepped onto the porch and closed the door so the children wouldn’t have to listen.
Garrick held out the bakery bag. “I know Mom crossed a line last night. I know the house thing got out of hand. But we can fix it. You and I are family. There’s enough money for everyone.”
“You mean my money.”
“It was never that simple. Mom managed it. She paid bills. She kept the family going.”
“With my inheritance.”
His jaw tightened. “You were doing fine. You had a job, a place to live. I had a business with employees depending on me. Sometimes money has to go where it’s needed.”
“Then why did you let Mom tell my children they didn’t deserve presents?”
For a second, he looked genuinely uncomfortable. Then he recovered. “That was Mom’s decision. Don’t mix everything together.”
“You took eleven point four million dollars six days ago.”
His face changed. The polished sadness slipped, revealing the panic underneath. “That transfer was protection. Creditors were circling. If the company went down, dozens of people would lose their jobs.”
“So you moved money you knew wasn’t yours.”
“I was going to put it back.”
“When?”
“When things settled.”
“Things have been settling for twenty-one years.”
He lowered his voice. “Listen to me. If you push this, Mom could go to prison. So could I. You’ll have to explain to Lily and Toby why you destroyed their family over money.”
I felt the old reflex rise: soften it, apologize, make the room comfortable for him. Then I pictured Lily folding tissue paper into a star while her cousins opened gifts.
“You already taught my children what you think family is worth,” I said. “I’m teaching them what a boundary looks like.”
Garrick dropped the bakery bag on the porch. “You’ll regret this.”
May you like
He walked away without looking back. A minute later, my phone buzzed with a message from him: You have until Friday to stop this. After that, there won’t be anything left to recover.
I took a screenshot and sent it to Natalie. It was the first clear sign that the money was still moving.
