Chapter 8 - MEGAN’S FIRST LIE
Megan came over the next evening.
No twins.
Eric stayed home with them.
She walked into our stripped-down living room and stared at the empty corner where an expensive designer chair used to sit.
“You sold that too?”
“Yes.”
She almost smiled despite herself.
Then she saw Daniel’s face and stopped.
He placed the refinance document on the table.
“Did you notarize this?”
Megan looked at it.
Her face lost color.
“I was twenty-six.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“Mom said Samuel had already agreed.”
“My father’s signature is fake,” I said.
She looked at me.
“I didn’t forge it.”
“But you notarized it.”
“Yes.”
“Without watching him sign.”
Silence.
Daniel stood.
“How much did Mom give you?”
“What?”
“For doing it.”
“Nothing.”
I watched her.
She was lying.
“How much?”
Tears filled her eyes.
“Ten thousand.”
Daniel turned away.
Megan started crying.
“I had student loans.”
“So did millions of people,” I said.
She flinched.
Good.
“Did you know about Dad’s ownership?”
“No.”
“Did you know the building was being refinanced?”
“Yes.”
“Did you know Mom was moving ownership toward you?”
“Later.”
Daniel laughed bitterly.
“And you still let me pay your bills.”
“You offered!”
“I thought you had nothing!”
“I never asked you to assume that!”
That was technically true.
But she hadn’t corrected him either.
Megan looked at me.
“I didn’t ask for half your paycheck.”
“Eric told me.”
She nodded.
“Mom did.”
“Why didn’t you stop her?”
“Because I’m scared.”
Finally.
Truth.
“Of what?”
“The lender.”
Not the building lender.
The private lender.
Megan had borrowed $100,000 against her expected inheritance.
But the lender wasn’t a bank.
It was a man named Victor Lane.
“Who is he?”
Daniel went still.
“You know him?”
“Unfortunately.”
Victor had been a business partner of Patricia’s brother years earlier.
Private money.
High interest.
Aggressive collections.
Not illegal, necessarily.
But dangerous financially.
“What does he have as collateral?”
Megan whispered:
“My interest in Dayton.”
“Which may not legally exist.”
“I know that now.”
“How much do you owe?”
“One hundred thirty-seven thousand.”
Exactly the amount Patricia attempted to transfer.
The family reserve.
Everything fit.
Patricia wasn’t merely helping Megan.
She was trying to erase a dangerous mistake before Robert, Daniel, my father, or I learned the truth.
Then Megan said:
“There’s something else.”
“What?”
“Victor didn’t approach me randomly.”
“Who introduced you?”
She looked at Daniel.
“Mom.”
Silence.
Daniel whispered:
“She introduced you to a private lender?”
Megan nodded.
“She said it would teach me independence.”
The hypocrisy was almost breathtaking.
Then Megan added:
“But Victor already knew about Esme.”
I frowned.
“Why would he know me?”
“He asked whether you still owned Hale Analytics.”
My body went cold.
Hale Analytics was the small healthcare data company I had created before marrying Daniel.
I never discussed it with Megan.
And I had sold most of its operating business three years earlier.
Or so everyone thought.
“What exactly did Victor ask?”
Megan swallowed.
“Whether Daniel knew you still owned the patents.”
Daniel turned toward me.
May you like
“What patents?”
And suddenly I realized there was one part of my own finances I had never explained to my husband either.
