Chapter 4 - THE ACCOUNT MY GRANDFATHER TRIED TO HIDE
My grandfather had been dead twelve years.
Until that moment, I had never heard the word Westlake connected to him.
Natalie had.
Apparently so had Mom.
And Ryan.
I looked around the table and realized, once again, I was the last person in my family to be allowed access to a truth.
“What is Westlake?”
Dad’s voice hardened.
“Nothing relevant.”
Julian leaned back.
“Then explaining it should be easy.”
Dad glared at him.
This was no longer the grateful business owner trying to impress a buyer.
This was Thomas Bennett being challenged inside his own dining room.
He hated that.
“Westlake was an old family investment account.”
“Owned by whom?” I asked.
“My father.”
“Why would Mom think the $2.4 million transfer was connected to it?”
Dad said nothing.
Natalie looked at me.
“Grandpa came to my apartment about a month before he died.”
Mom’s face tightened.
“You never told me that.”
“He asked me not to.”
“What did he say?”
Natalie hesitated.
“That Dad was moving money between Bennett Industrial and family accounts.”
Dad slammed his hand on the table.
“Enough.”
The children in the living room went quiet.
Natalie’s husband stood to check on them.
I stared at my father.
“Sit down.”
His eyes widened.
I had never spoken to him that way.
Neither had anyone else.
Julian said nothing.
He didn’t need to rescue me.
That mattered.
Dad remained standing.
I continued:
“You blamed me for a theft I didn’t commit. You kept a false internal record under my name for seventeen years. Someone used that identity three months ago to move $2.4 million.”
My voice shook, but I kept going.
“You don’t get to say enough.”
Dad slowly sat.
Natalie explained.
Grandpa had shown her a handwritten note containing account numbers.
Westlake Holdings.
A private LLC.
He believed Dad was using Bennett Industrial money to cover family investment losses.
“Did you keep the note?” I asked.
She looked embarrassed.
“No.”
Dad almost smiled.
Then Natalie added:
“I photographed it.”
His smile disappeared.
She took out her phone.
The photograph was old but clear.
Grandpa’s handwriting.
Three account numbers.
A warning:
IF THOMAS USES CLAIRE'S NAME AGAIN, CONTACT ELLIS.
My chest tightened.
Again.
Grandpa knew.
“He knew about the fifty thousand.”
Natalie nodded slowly.
“I think so.”
“Why didn’t he tell me?”
“I don’t know.”
Mom began crying.
I ignored her.
“Who is Ellis?”
Julian answered.
“Samuel Ellis?”
Dad looked at him.
That confirmed it.
Julian continued:
“Former corporate attorney. He represented Bennett Industrial for years.”
“He retired when I was in college,” I said.
“No,” Dad replied automatically.
Everyone looked at him.
He realized his mistake.
“What?”
Dad rubbed his face.
“Ellis didn’t retire.”
“Then what happened?”
“He was fired.”
“Why?”
Dad didn’t answer.
Mom did.
“Because he wanted Thomas to tell you the truth.”
The room fell silent.
My mother looked at me through tears.
“Samuel Ellis knew you didn’t take the fifty thousand.”
I felt something inside me go very still.
Then she delivered the part that hurt most.
May you like
“He had proof.”
And my parents had made sure I never saw it.
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