Chapter 2 - THE ACCOUNT HE SAID NEVER EXISTED
The room erupted before I finished speaking.
“That’s impossible,” Dad snapped.
I slid the statement toward Blake.
Grandma had opened the account when I was a child. Birthday money, investment dividends, and annual gifts went into it for almost a decade.
By the time I turned eighteen, it held $82,417.
Three days after Dad changed the locks on our house, the account balance became zero.
Blake stared at the statement.
“Dad withdrew this?”
“Richard was listed as custodian until Anna turned eighteen,” Mr. Ellis explained.
Dad immediately pointed at me.
“That money paid for her expenses.”
I almost laughed.
“What expenses?”
He hesitated.
I remembered the summer after I was disowned.
My best friend’s mother gave me grocery money.
I worked mornings at a diner and nights cleaning office buildings.
My community college tuition came from grants and loans.
Dad had not paid a dollar.
Mr. Ellis produced another document.
“The bank retained the withdrawal slip.”
Dad’s expression shifted.
Melissa whispered, “Richard?”
The signature on the withdrawal form was his.
But that wasn’t the worst part.
The transfer destination was printed beneath it.
MERCER LAND DEVELOPMENT LLC.
His company.
Blake stared at our father.
“You put her money into the business?”
Dad slammed his palm against the table.
“I built that company for this family!”
“No,” I said. “You built it for yourself.”
He turned toward me.
“You think one old bank record gives you power over me?”
“No.”
I opened another section of the folder.
“But Grandma’s will does.”
Mr. Ellis began reading.
Any beneficiary found to have intentionally diverted, concealed, transferred, or misappropriated estate assets would forfeit his inheritance and become responsible for repayment before any distribution occurred.
Dad’s confidence vanished.
He had expected Grandma to leave him the house, the land, the investment accounts, and control over everything else.
Instead, Grandma had created a trap that depended on one thing Dad never imagined anyone would demand.
Receipts.
Blake stood and paced toward the window.
“How much money are we talking about?”
“I don’t know yet,” I said.
That was technically true.
I knew only what my preliminary review had found.
Dad laughed bitterly.
“Then you have nothing.”
I looked at Mr. Ellis.
He nodded.
I removed a second folder.
“Grandma hired a forensic accountant before she died.”
Silence.
Dad stared at me.
“The preliminary report found $1.8 million in unexplained transfers.”
Melissa dropped her coffee cup.
It shattered on the floor.
But Dad did not look at the broken porcelain.
He was staring at one line on the report.
A line naming an account none of us recognized.
May you like
Except him.
And according to the bank records, that account belonged to Melissa.
