Chapter 8 - THE FIGHT ABOUT FAIRNESS
Brianna finally told Damon.
And Damon did what no one in the Brooks family ever expected: he drove straight to Savannah’s condo to apologize for what he had not even done.
He stood on the porch pale with shame.
“I didn’t know,” he said. “About any of it.”
Savannah believed him.
Behind him, Brianna looked wrecked.
They sat at the kitchen table like unwilling adults.
Damon spoke first.
“Bri told me your parents said the money was family money.”
Savannah nodded.
“They say a lot of things.”
Brianna took a breath.
“I need you to hear this from me before anyone else twists it.”
Savannah waited.
“When we were kids, Mom always told me you got more because you were stronger, smarter, better with money, Grandma’s favorite—pick one. She told me fairness meant balancing you out.”
Savannah stared.
“By taking from me?”
“By helping me.”
The distinction mattered to Brianna. It always had.
She cried then, but not theatrically. Tiredly.
“When I failed, they said you could handle sacrifice. When you succeeded, they said I needed rescue. After a while, I didn’t know the difference between fairness and theft.”
Savannah looked at her twin and felt something uglier than pity.
Recognition.
That was exactly how Patricia had kept them arranged for twenty-nine years.
Then Damon said quietly, “Brianna knew they wanted the money. But she didn’t know about the taxes.”
Savannah nodded.
“I know.”
Brianna swallowed hard.
“I’ll testify.”
The room went silent.
Savannah searched her face.
“You mean it?”
“Yes.”
“Why now?”
Brianna looked at Damon, then down at her own stomach.
“Because for the first time I realized if my daughter watches me stay quiet, she’ll learn the same rules we did.”
Savannah nearly cried.
Almost.
Then Damon handed over something even better: copies of texts Brianna had forwarded him the night before.
Patricia: Don’t panic. If Savannah refuses, we’ll make this about the babies.
Robert: We only need the transfer to clear. After that, the account issue doesn’t matter.
Patricia: And if Savannah keeps screaming unstable things, we’ll use the petition.
Rachel would love that.
For exactly six minutes, hope felt clean.
Then Savannah’s phone rang.
Hospital.
The monitor she had been given for home blood-pressure checks had sent an alert through the connected system. Her numbers were climbing dangerously.
“Stress response,” the nurse said. “Rest now or we bring you back in.”
Savannah closed her eyes.
The body remembered what the mind was still sorting.
After the call, Brianna stood.
“I know you don’t forgive me.”
Savannah looked at her.
“No.”
Brianna nodded.
“I wouldn’t either.”
As they reached the door, Damon turned back.
“There’s one more thing. Robert’s accountant called this morning. If your father doesn’t pay by Friday, state tax officers can freeze the business operating account.”
Friday was the same day as the preliminary civil hearing.
So that was Robert’s real clock.
Not Brianna’s needs.
Not family fairness.
May you like
A business seizure.
Patricia had attacked Savannah because the deadline on Robert’s theft was running out.
