Two thousand dollars on video games, Claire?
You demonstrated exactly why we shouldn’t keep spending more money on your household.”
I looked through the doorway at Noah, sitting cross-legged in the sunlight.
He wasn’t looking at a price tag.
He was reading the instructions.
“The trust isn’t household money,” I said.
“It’s Noah’s.”
My father fell silent.
Then his voice became firmer.
“Of course it is.
You know I would never touch it.”
I hadn’t accused him of touching anything.
After we ended the call, I opened the metal filing cabinet inside my bedroom.
Ben’s documents were stored in a folder I had carried through two different moves.
I found the trust agreement and the yearly summaries my father had emailed me.
Each summary listed a balance, a return, and one line for expenses.
I had reviewed them over the years.
They looked like the kind of financial paperwork my father had always understood far better than I did.
The expense line was larger than I remembered.
I called the attorney who had helped Ben establish the trust, a woman named Lena Ortiz.
She recognized me immediately after I gave her my name.
When I explained that I had questions about the account, she asked me to bring the agreement and every statement I had.
“Did Richard send you transaction records?” she asked.
“Only the annual summaries.”
“Then we’ll request the rest.”
I spent that afternoon trying to work while messages from my family continued lighting up my phone.
My mother sent me a photograph of Noah’s unopened presents and wrote,
He can still have these.
Brooke wanted an apology for being embarrassed in front of everyone.
My father sent nothing.
His silence bothered me more than all the calls from the previous night.
At bedtime, Noah asked if he could save one of his new games for Parker to try the next time they saw each other.
“Of course,” I said.
“Even if Aunt Brooke doesn’t like you?”
“Even then.”
He thought about that.
“I don’t think she likes me very much.”
I sat beside him on the edge of his bed.
In the past, I might have immediately tried to convince him he was mistaken.
I had done that before, offering explanations whenever someone forgot his birthday or gave him an obviously last-minute present.
I thought I was protecting him.
Instead, I had taught him to question what he could clearly see.
“She was unkind to you,” I said.
“You had every reason to feel hurt.”
His shoulders relaxed slightly.
I stayed beside him until he fell asleep.
Two days later, Adam showed up at my front door.
He looked like he hadn’t slept properly.
I invited him inside while Noah was visiting a friend’s house.
“Brooke told me not to come,” he said.
“That’s a promising beginning.”
He almost smiled.
Then he handed me a folded piece of paper.
It was a Christmas budget my mother had prepared.
Lily and Parker each had a long list of gifts beside their names.
Noah had two small items and a gift card.
At the bottom, written in my father’s square handwriting, were the words balance adjustment.
“What does that mean?” I asked.
“Dad said it had something to do with Ben’s money.
I thought he meant they spent more of their own money on my kids because Noah would eventually have the trust.”
Adam rubbed his forehead.
“I didn’t like how it looked.
I should’ve spoken up.”
“You were sitting right beside her.”
“I know.”
I could hear him breathing.
He wasn’t asking me to forgive him, which was the first helpful thing he had done.
“Did Brooke know about the trust?”
“Everyone knew Noah had some money put aside.
Dad mentioned it whenever Mom wanted to buy him something expensive.
Brooke resented it.”
“She doesn’t even know how much is in it.”
“Neither do I.”
“Then she decided to hurt a child over money she’d never even seen.”
Adam lowered his head.
Before he left, he told me something else: my father had called him late on Christmas night, asking whether I still had Ben’s attorney’s number.
Adam said he had told him he didn’t know.
My father had sounded worried.
Lena’s office called the following week.
She had reviewed the summaries and requested a full accounting from my father.
Some expenses could simply be ordinary costs associated with managing a trust, she explained.
Others needed clarification.
There was no reason to make assumptions until the complete records arrived.
I wanted to make assumptions anyway.
I wanted an answer immediately, while at the same time being afraid of what that answer might reveal.
At work, I managed to get through a morning of arranging interviews and dealing with a malfunctioning microphone.
One of our hosts asked if I wanted to go on air and discuss the holiday disagreement.
Apparently, Brooke had told someone who knew someone at the station.
I declined.
