Inside were copies of the bank correspondence, the initial divorce filing, and documents relating to temporary financial protections Mason had requested.
No secret weapon.
No cinematic evidence.
Just paper.
Dad would have approved.
Paper has patience.
I stepped into the rain.
The house looked warm through the dining-room windows.
Chloe met me at the door.
She hugged me.
I did not hug back.
Her arms loosened.
“You’re freezing.”
“I’m fine.”
“You sat out there forever.”
“I was thinking.”
Her eyes dropped to the folder.
“About work?”
“Among other things.”
I entered the dining room.
Brenda sat in my chair.
Dylan sat beside her.
Good china.
Candles.
Roasted turkey.
Cranberry sauce.
The performance would have been almost touching if I had not known what it was built around.
I placed the folder beside my plate.
Dylan looked at it immediately.
“What’s that?”
“Documents.”
“For what?”
“Later.”
Chloe brought food.
Nobody ate much.
Brenda began.
“We’re worried about you.”
“I know.”
“You’ve been under enormous pressure.”
“Yes.”
“Your father’s death.”
“Yes.”
“The estate.”
I looked at her.
“The estate seems to worry all of you.”
She tightened her mouth.
“That’s unfair.”
“Maybe.”
Dylan spoke.
“Grief can mess with people.”
“It can.”
“You haven’t been yourself.”
“Who have I been?”
He shifted.
“I don’t know. Angry.”
“I’m grieving.”
“Exactly.”
Chloe touched my arm.
“We found somewhere you could go for a few days.”
I looked at her hand.
Then at her face.
“Go where?”
“A private center outside the city.”
“For what?”
“Rest.”
“Do you think I need psychiatric treatment?”
Her eyes flicked toward Brenda.
That small glance told me more than the answer.
“I think you’re overwhelmed.”
“And while I’m there?”
“We take care of things,” Brenda said.
“What things?”
“The house. Bills.”
Dylan jumped in.
“The farm.”
I looked at him.
“What about the farm?”
“You shouldn’t be dealing with all that right now.”
“What would you do with it?”
“Manage it.”
I almost laughed.
Instead, I asked:
“And the insurance money?”
Chloe’s fingers left my arm.
Nobody answered.
I opened the folder.
The bank letter went onto the table first.
Chloe stared at it.
“Someone tried to deposit Dad’s insurance check without my authorization.”
Dylan stopped moving.
Brenda said:
“Are you accusing us?”
“I’m stating what happened.”
Chloe looked at me.
“Ryan.”
“The bank stopped it.”
Her eyes filled.
“I can explain.”
I waited.
She looked at Dylan.
That was enough.
“I didn’t think it would hurt anything,” she said.
“You didn’t think taking control of a three-hundred-thousand-dollar check made out to me would hurt anything?”
“We were going to put it back.”
Dylan muttered:
“It wasn’t supposed to be permanent.”
I looked at him.
“For what?”
He said nothing.
“Fifty thousand?”
His face changed.
Brenda’s wine glass stopped halfway to her mouth.
Chloe turned toward him.
“What is he talking about?”
That surprised me.
“You didn’t know?”
“Know what?”
I looked at Dylan.
“You tell her.”
His face reddened.
“Nothing.”
“Then I will.”