Chapter 3 - THE MONEY EMILY NEVER SAW
Claire stayed the night.
Caleb objected with a thin, angry smile, but he didn’t physically stop her. Too many relatives were still in the house, still buzzing from the scene at dinner. He shifted instantly into wounded-host mode, telling everyone Claire had “misread a stressful family moment” and Emily was “fragile lately.”
Claire wanted to break a plate over his head.
Instead, she waited.
By eleven-thirty, the relatives were gone. The dining room was a wreck of dirty glasses, crumpled napkins, and cooling food. Emily automatically started clearing the table until Claire took the platter from her hands and told her to sit down.
Caleb watched from the doorway with his arms crossed.
“You enjoy making a scene,” he said.
“I enjoy stopping abuse,” Claire answered.
“You know nothing about this family’s finances.”
“Then explain the two hundred thousand dollars.”
His jaw tightened, but only for a second. “From the Carter Family Trust. Emily’s distribution after Dad died.”
Claire turned to Emily.
Emily shook her head. “I never got anything.”
Caleb laughed softly. “You signed for it.”
“I signed no such thing.”
“You signed plenty of things,” Caleb said. “Maybe if you paid attention instead of crying over every hard truth, you’d remember.”
Claire stood up so suddenly her chair legs scraped. “Show me.”
Caleb looked from one sister to the other, measuring. “Tomorrow.”
“No,” Claire said. “Now.”
For a moment, Claire thought he might refuse. Then he gave another one of those terrible little smiles and disappeared into the study.
When he came back, he dropped a manila folder onto the dining table.
Inside were photocopies.
Bank transfer records.
A trust summary.
A withdrawal authorization.
And on the last page, there it was: Emily Carter’s name on a signature line beneath a transfer authorizing $200,000 from the Carter Family Trust into Carter Event Group LLC.
Claire scanned the page.
“Carter Event Group?” she asked.
“My company,” Caleb said.
Emily stared in disbelief. “I never signed that.”
Caleb leaned one shoulder against the doorway. “You did. Before Mom’s second surgery. You said if it kept the business alive, use whatever was needed.”
Emily stood so abruptly that her chair tipped backward. “That is a lie.”
“It’s not a lie if you forgot.”
Claire picked up the page again. The signature did look like Emily’s—close enough to be dangerous. But something about it bothered her. The slant. The spacing.
“When was this notarized?” Claire asked.
Caleb pointed to the stamp. “You can read.”
Claire could.
And now she saw the part that made her stomach turn.
The notary date was the same day Emily had spent eleven straight hours at St. Matthew’s Hospital because Helen had collapsed.
Emily had been living on coffee and panic that entire week.
The signature might have been hers.
Or it might have been taken from something else and copied.
Claire closed the folder.
“I want the originals.”
“You’re not entitled to anything in this house.”
Claire didn’t flinch. “I’m your sister.”
Caleb’s expression hardened. “Then act like one.”
He took the folder back and walked out.
Claire turned to Emily. “Tomorrow morning, we call a lawyer.”
Emily looked terrified. “If he finds out—”
“He already knows I’m not leaving this alone.”
Then Emily whispered, “Claire… there’s something else.”
“What?”
“The trust.”
“What about it?”
Emily looked toward the hall, as if Caleb might hear through walls. “Mom once told me the trust was supposed to protect the house from Caleb.”
Claire felt the room tilt.
“Protect it from Caleb?” she repeated.
Emily nodded slowly. “And if that’s true… why does he control everything?”
Claire didn’t sleep much that night.
At three in the morning, she went downstairs for water and passed the study.
The door was cracked open.
May you like
Inside, the desk lamp was on.
And Caleb was feeding papers into the fireplace.
