Chapter 2 - The House That Wasn't Theirs
“Whose signature?” I asked.
Daniel shut off his phone. “It's routine paperwork.”
“Then show me.”
“Not tonight.”
Vanessa stepped between us. “You came to make dinner, Eleanor. So make dinner.”
“I own the house you're standing in. I think I can ask about its paperwork.”
Her mouth opened, then tightened. “Daniel says this house is ours.”
“This house belongs to Hartwell Holdings. You know that. You've both lived here under a lease that I have never enforced.”
“Mom,” Daniel said sharply, “don't embarrass me.”
Hartwell renovated it over eleven years. Daniel later moved in to oversee the company's local rentals. When Vanessa married him, she'd told everyone he bought the mansion for her.
I let the lie live because I thought a little borrowed pride might help my son stand taller. Instead it had taught both of them to look down on me.
The doorbell rang fifteen minutes early.
Vanessa grabbed my apron and pushed it at me. “Go through the service hallway. Your blouse is filthy.”
I didn't move. I watched her smooth her hair in the reflection of the stainless-steel oven, turn on her expensive smile, and hurry away.
Daniel stayed behind. “You cannot bring up Hartwell tonight.”
“Have you promised Richard property you don't own?”
He wouldn't meet my eyes.
“Daniel.”
He finally whispered, “It's more complicated than that.”
From the foyer came Richard Vale's booming voice. “Where's your mother? My lawyer has one question for her.”
May you like
I stepped toward the hallway, and Daniel caught my wrist.
“Please,” he said. “I can lose everything if you tell him the truth.”
