Chapter 3 - THE PHOTOGRAPH IN ROSE'S KITCHEN
Emily left work at noon with one question burning inside her.
By twelve-thirty, she had fifty.
Rose was sitting at the kitchen table when Emily rushed through the door.
“You're home early.”
“Grandma, do you know Richard Whitmore?”
The spoon slipped from Rose's hand.
It hit the floor.
Neither woman moved.
Emily's heart sank.
“You do.”
Rose looked suddenly exhausted.
“Where did you hear that name?”
“I served him this morning.”
Rose closed her eyes.
“And Noah?”
Emily stared.
“You know Noah too?”
Rose pushed back her chair.
Slowly, painfully, she walked to the hallway closet.
From the top shelf, she brought down an old tin box Emily had seen a hundred times.
Inside were tax papers.
Photographs.
Letters.
And one picture of a smiling woman holding a little dark-haired boy.
Beside them stood a much younger Rose.
The boy couldn't have been older than six.
Emily knew immediately.
“Noah.”
Rose nodded.
The woman was Eleanor Whitmore, Noah's mother.
“She was my friend.”
“You worked for them?”
“I kept books for Whitmore Development before it became Whitmore Urban.”
Rose sat down.
“Eleanor hired me. Richard tolerated me.”
“Why didn't you ever tell me?”
“Because after Eleanor died, Richard made it very clear that staying away was safest.”
Emily's stomach dropped.
“Threatened you?”
Rose hesitated.
“That depends on how you define threat.”
She pulled out another document.
It was a photocopy of a trust agreement.
Emily couldn't understand the legal language, but one section had been circled.
At age twenty-eight, Noah would receive his mother's voting shares.
Thirty-four percent of Whitmore Urban Development.
Combined with shares held by a family foundation, it could give him effective control.
“Why would Richard hide that?”
Rose looked toward the window.
“Because Noah's mother didn't trust him.”
Emily sat down.
Rose explained that Noah had become Deaf after a severe illness when he was two.
Eleanor immediately learned ASL.
Richard never did.
“He kept saying Noah should learn to function in the hearing world.”
Emily felt anger rise in her chest.
Rose continued.
“Eleanor worried Richard would control Noah's money by controlling access to information.”
“So she created the trust.”
“Yes.”
“What did you discover?”
Rose's eyes hardened.
“After Eleanor became sick, I found financial papers Richard wanted me to backdate.”
“Did you?”
“No.”
“What happened?”
“He fired me.”
Rose opened the tin again.
At the bottom sat a sealed yellow envelope.
Across the front, in handwriting faded with age, were three words:
FOR NOAH WHITMORE.
Emily stared.
“You've had that all these years?”
Rose nodded.
“I promised Eleanor I would give it to Noah only if Richard ever tried to take away his choice.”
Emily reached toward the envelope.
Rose stopped her.
“There is one more thing.”
“What?”
Rose looked terrified.
“Richard didn't just hide Noah's inheritance.”
May you like
She swallowed.
“Eleanor believed he was trying to have Noah declared legally incompetent before his twenty-eighth birthday.”
