Daniel had talked about it for years.
“He funded Riverside with my inheritance?”
“Partly.”
“How much is it worth now?”
Patricia said nothing.
“How much?”
“Your original share, if properly traced with gains… possibly eleven to fourteen million.”
I stood frozen.
Eleven to fourteen million dollars.
Daniel and I had once argued for three days about whether we could afford a new refrigerator.
“I prepared the petition because I wanted to force disclosure.”
“In my name.”
“Yes.”
“Without telling me.”
“Yes.”
“That isn’t helping me, Patricia. That is controlling me.”
“I know.”
“Why withdraw it?”
“Dad found out.”
My hand tightened.
“He threatened you?”
“He told me if I continued, Daniel would lose everything, Mom would lose the house, hundreds of employees could lose their jobs.”
“So you chose them.”
“Yes.”
No excuses.
No justification.
Just yes.
I hated her for that answer.
And respected it more than another lie.
