Chapter 18 - The Cost of Telling the Truth
When Mom heard Nico might be charged, she put down her fork.
"Is that my fault?" she asked.
"No," I said. "He made decisions. You told the truth about them."
She nodded, but I could tell the answer didn't stop hurting.
The weeks that followed were slow, expensive, and full of paperwork. The lender reviewed how the home-equity loan had been approved. The bank placed restrictions on the disputed accounts while the investigation continued. June filed claims to recover diverted money and challenged transactions made under the old power of attorney.
Some losses were easier to document than others. No one handed Mom a check for everything she'd lost. The loan still clouded the house, even as its use was being disputed.
Mom asked June a question that surprised me.
"Can I sell the house myself?"
"When the ownership and lending issues are resolved, you can decide what you want to do," June said.
"I thought you'd want to stay there," I told Mom afterward.
"I stayed because I loved the memories. I don't have to keep living inside the bad ones."
She was beginning to move differently. She went to follow-up appointments, took walks with Biscuit, and chose her own meals. Some days she got tired and let me help. Other days she sent me out of the kitchen because I was chopping onions wrong.
One morning, she made pancakes at my table. They came out uneven, with edges too dark. They tasted wonderful.
"Your father liked the burned ones," she said. "He pretended they were special."
Then she began laughing. I hadn't heard that sound in months.
By early summer, the court had approved temporary measures protecting the disputed property while the civil case proceeded. We still faced a difficult financial settlement. Mom understood every trade-off and helped choose the next step.
May you like
That Friday, a formal notice arrived from the prosecutor.
Both Daphne and Nico had been charged.
