Chapter 5 - PAIGE’S MOTHER KNEW MORE THAN PAIGE
Diane Miller asked to meet me.
Paige tried to stop her.
Diane insisted.
She was still recovering from surgery, walking with a brace and cane.
We met at her house.
Megan came.
Not because I needed protection.
Because I needed a witness who loved me.
Diane looked ashamed.
“I owe you an apology.”
“You weren’t married to me.”
“No.”
“But I encouraged Paige to trust him.”
Interesting.
“Why?”
“Because I thought he was leaving you.”
Of course.
Then Diane said:
“I also thought you knew about Blue Ridge.”
Everybody thought I knew.
Because Evan told them I did.
He created consent socially before he created it legally.
Then she showed me a binder.
Blue Ridge business plan.
Page three:
Founding support:
Evan and Claire Brooks.
My name.
No ownership beside it.
But enough to imply involvement.
Then:
Projected advisory role:
Claire Brooks - community partnerships and family operations.
I laughed.
“What?”
Diane looked uncomfortable.
“He said once it became profitable, you might leave your nonprofit job and help.”
I did not work for a nonprofit.
I worked as financial-services coordinator for a university system.
Evan had simplified me into something that sounded flexible and nurturing.
Then Diane said:
“Evan talked about you kindly.”
That surprised me.
“He didn’t insult you.”
Somehow worse.
“He said you were dependable. Loyal. Good with families.”
Wonderful.
I was a feature in his business plan.
Then she turned to a later section.
Second-phase capital sources.
Evan bonus.
Bank financing.
Paige equity.
Potential Brooks family real estate participation.
Claire inherited land.
My mother’s property.
There.
Not committed.
Potential.
He was mapping everyone’s assets before asking.
Then Diane told me something Paige had not.
The hospital room photograph was deliberate.
“What?”
“Paige posted it because Evan told her to.”
My skin chilled.
“Why?”
“He said public proof of caregiver involvement would help Blue Ridge’s brand story later.”
I stared.
“He wanted their relationship online?”
“No. He thought it looked like colleagues supporting a family.”
But the two cups.
Names.
Evan.
Paige.
He had helped stage the very post that exposed him.
Arrogance.
Then Diane said:
“I told Paige to delete it after I realized you might see.”
“Why?”
She looked away.
“Because by then, I knew they were sleeping together.”
There.
“When did you learn?”
“Two weeks before my surgery.”
“So you knew Evan was married.”
“Yes.”
“And still let him stay at Paige’s apartment for ten days?”
Diane’s eyes filled.
“I was sick. Scared. And selfish.”
Honest.
Then:
“I thought if he loved Paige, maybe something good could come from something ugly.”
I said nothing.
Then she handed me one final document.
Promissory note.
Blue Ridge owed Diane:
$120,000.
Where did she get that money?
Retirement savings.
She invested in the company too.
Paige did not know.
Evan did.
He had accepted retirement money from a woman about to undergo major surgery.
Was it legal?
Likely.
Was it responsible?
Questionable.
Then the repayment terms:
Priority repayment before owner distributions.
Good.
He had actually protected her capital.
Again, nothing was simple.
Then I noticed the witness signature.
Robert Brooks.
Evan’s father.
I had not spoken to Robert in three years.
Why?
Because Evan claimed his father wanted nothing to do with us after an old family dispute.
Apparently he was involved in Blue Ridge.
May you like
And Diane whispered:
“Evan’s father is the person who introduced him to the lender.”
