Chapter 18 - The Woman Behind the CurtainEvelyn called Rachel Moreno the following morning.
Rachel was surprised.
She had expected another letter from Greer.
Instead, Evelyn asked to arrange a confidential meeting about her own legal exposure.
Rachel explained that she represented Travis and Claire in specified matters and could not become Evelyn's personal attorney.
"If you're considering disclosing information that may implicate you, you need independent counsel."
Evelyn was silent.
Then she asked, "Can you recommend someone competent?"
Rachel provided several names without promising favorable treatment.
Evelyn retained a separate attorney, Rebecca Sloan, a former federal prosecutor with experience in financial investigations.
Their first meeting lasted three hours.
Rebecca listened without interrupting as Evelyn described the company's debts, the Vale transaction, the reserve transfers, and Leonard's assurances.
When Evelyn finished, Rebecca closed her notebook.
"Do you understand how serious this is?"
Evelyn stared at the wall.
"Yes."
"I'm not sure you do."
Rebecca leaned forward.
"You may have approved transactions that breached contractual and fiduciary obligations. Certain documents may have been falsified. Your exposure depends on the actual records, your knowledge, and what you did."
"I didn't forge the signatures."
"That distinction matters. But approving improper transfers or knowingly relying on false records may create separate problems."
Evelyn swallowed.
"What should I do?"
"First, stop discussing the facts with Leonard Greer. Preserve all records. Don't alter, discard, or instruct anyone to destroy anything. We'll review your documents and determine the proper way to respond to outstanding legal requests."
Evelyn nodded.
Then she reached into her handbag.
She removed the signed memorandum concerning the beneficiary reserve.
Rebecca read it carefully.
"Did you write this?"
"Yes."
"Did anyone witness it?"
"Leonard."
"Why did you keep it?"
Evelyn looked down.
"Because I didn't trust him."
Rebecca regarded her for a long moment.
"Then why did you continue working with him?"
The question pierced Evelyn more deeply than any accusation.
"Because admitting he was dishonest would mean admitting what I'd allowed."
Rebecca nodded slowly.
"That's the problem we'll have to face."
That afternoon, Evelyn returned to Hartwell Manor.
For the first time since Arthur's death, the house felt unfamiliar.
She wandered through the portrait gallery.
Her wedding photograph hung near the stairs.
Arthur was smiling.
She remembered their first apartment above a bakery, before the mansion, before the company expanded, before money became the measure of every decision.
They used to eat dinner on mismatched plates.
Arthur would come home with ridiculous stories about employees and customers.
She would laugh until her stomach hurt.
Then the company grew.
The debts grew.
The expectations grew.
And gradually they stopped laughing.
Evelyn entered Arthur's study.
She opened a drawer and found an old family photograph.
Travis was six.
Claire was nine.
Both were sitting on the grass beside Arthur.
Evelyn was standing behind them, holding a telephone.
She couldn't remember the day.
Only the feeling of always having something urgent to handle.
A knock interrupted her.
It was Zaya.
The girl stood in the doorway wearing a blue sweater and carrying her school notebook.
Evelyn stiffened.
"How did you get here?"
"Dad brought me to pick up my winter coat."
"He's downstairs?"
"Yes."
Evelyn nodded.
An awkward silence followed.
Zaya looked around the room.
"Grandpa used to let me sit in his chair."
"I remember."
"He said it was important to see the room from different places."
Evelyn managed a faint smile.
"Your grandfather said many unusual things."
Zaya stepped inside.
"Grandma?"
"Yes?"
"Did you really want me at your lunch?"
The question struck without warning.
Evelyn looked at her granddaughter.
"Of course."
"Then why did you put me at the little table?"
Evelyn opened her mouth.
The familiar explanations arrived automatically.
The girl would be more comfortable.
Adult conversations were tedious.
It was only a seating arrangement.
But she remembered Rebecca's question.
Why did you continue?
She remembered Mrs. Parker telling her to tell the truth.
And she understood that every lie she told Zaya would become another small piece of the wall between them.
"Because I was angry with your father," Evelyn answered.
Zaya stared at her.
"Why?"
"Because he was questioning decisions I'd made."
"So you made me sit alone?"
Evelyn's face flushed.
"Yes."
Zaya looked toward the window.
"That's not fair."
"No," Evelyn whispered.
"It hurt my feelings."
"I know."
Zaya shook her head.
"I don't think you do."
Evelyn had no answer.
The girl continued.
"I was really happy when you said I could come. I picked my dress the night before."
Evelyn looked at her granddaughter's hands.
They were trembling slightly.
"I made those flowers because Grandpa used to put flowers on the Reading House tables when somebody had a birthday."
The older woman's eyes filled.
"I didn't know that."
"You didn't ask."
The words settled between them.
Evelyn reached for her.
Zaya stepped backward.
Not angrily.
Just carefully.
"I'm not ready for a hug."
Evelyn lowered her hand.
"All right."
Zaya looked at Arthur's portrait.
"Did Grandpa ever make you feel left out?"
Evelyn gave a small, broken laugh.
"Sometimes."
"Did you tell him?"
"Not enough."
Zaya nodded.
Then she asked the question Evelyn had feared since the investigation began.
"Grandma, did you take money Grandpa left for me?"
Evelyn closed her eyes.
She could have denied it.
She could have blamed Leonard.
She could have told Zaya the arrangements were too complicated for a child.
Instead, she whispered, "I allowed money to be moved when I should not have."
Zaya's face changed.
"Why?"
Evelyn looked down.
"Because I was afraid."
Zaya considered that answer.
Then she stepped toward the door.
"I'm afraid too."
Evelyn began crying.
The girl paused.
"But Dad says being afraid doesn't mean you get to hurt people."
Then Zaya left.
Evelyn remained alone in the study.
She had spent decades believing that children needed to respect adults before they could be trusted with the truth.
Her granddaughter had just shown her the opposite.
Respect could not exist where truth was withheld.
That evening, Evelyn called Rebecca Sloan.
"I'm ready to give you all the records."
Rebecca answered calmly.
"All of them?"
Evelyn looked toward the locked drawer in Arthur's desk.
"Yes."
May you like
She swallowed.
"Including the documents that make me look guilty."
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