Chapter 5 - Rebecca’s Second Dinner
The next morning, Rebecca came to my house alone.
I almost didn't open the door.
Then I saw her through the window.
No emerald dress.
No diamonds.
No polished smile.
She looked tired.
“Five minutes,” I said.
She entered.
My house embarrassed her.
I had always known.
Today she looked around differently.
Family photographs covered one wall.
Daniel at eight.
Daniel graduating high school.
Daniel holding his college diploma.
Daniel on his wedding day.
Rebecca stared at that photograph.
“I was horrible to you.”
“Yes.”
She blinked.
Apparently she had expected me to soften the sentence.
“I thought you'd say it wasn't that bad.”
“It was.”
She sat.
“I need to tell you something.”
“About your father?”
“About me.”
She explained that the dinner had indeed been planned.
Not the lobster humiliation originally.
That part had been hers.
Charles had told Rebecca that I controlled an old contractual right Daniel needed transferred.
He described it as meaningless paperwork.
Rebecca believed I would resist if I felt important.
So she decided to make me feel unimportant.
The confession was ugly.
At least it was honest.
“I wanted you off balance,” she said.
“You succeeded.”
She cried.
I didn't.
“Why do you hate me?”
Rebecca looked surprised.
“I don't.”
“Then why?”
Her answer took time.
“My father spent my whole life teaching me that there are two kinds of people. People who belong in the room and people who serve them.”
I thought about all my years carrying plates.
“And you decided which one I was.”
“Yes.”
“At least you're finally saying it.”
She wiped her face.
“There's more.”
Of course there was.
Three weeks earlier, Rebecca had arranged another dinner at the same restaurant.
Charles.
Robert.
And her.
They discussed my rights.
Daniel wasn't there.
“Robert told us you would never sign if you knew what the documents were.”
“So Charles forged them.”
“I didn't know he would.”
“But you knew he wanted to deceive me.”
“Yes.”
That single word changed everything.
Rebecca removed an envelope from her purse.
“I found this in Dad's office.”
Inside were emails.
Charles had planned to transfer my rights through a shell company before the acquisition closed.
Robert would receive a fee.
Charles would gain equity.
Daniel's investment would make him financially dependent on the deal.
And Rebecca?
She had been promised a separate ownership share.
My son had been used.
But not by strangers.
By his wife.
“Does Daniel know?”
“No.”
“Why are you giving this to me?”
Rebecca stared at her wedding ring.
“Because I don't know if I still deserve to be married to him.”
I said nothing.
“I loved him,” she whispered.
“Loved?”
“I love him. I just don't know when I started becoming my father.”
Those words sounded familiar.
Daniel had said almost the same thing.
One choice at a time.
I took the envelope.
“Tell him yourself.”
Rebecca nodded.
“And don't ask me to make him forgive you.”
“I won't.”
After she left, Thomas picked me up.
We went to the bank.
Daniel came too.
The safe-deposit room smelled like metal and old paper.
The brass key still worked.
The clerk brought the box.
My hands shook as I opened it.
Inside were insurance papers.
Old photographs.
A small amount of cash.
And a sealed envelope.
Robert's handwriting.
EVELYN — IF I DON'T COME BACK.
Memory returned like broken glass.
The night before Robert disappeared, he had come home terrified.
He told me someone was after him over money.
I thought it was another lie.
Apparently it wasn't.
I opened the letter.
Robert confessed that he had taken money.
Not from a company.
From me.
From the original Carter & Bell restaurant account.
The missing money that caused our first business to collapse.
Thomas read over my shoulder.
His face drained.
“He stole our startup reserve.”
I kept reading.
Robert had gambled it.
Lost it.
Then disappeared rather than confess.
Daniel whispered, “Dad destroyed your restaurant?”
“Yes.”
But there was another page.
Robert claimed he had eventually recovered some of the money.
He placed it in an account under Daniel's name.
I found the account number.
Thomas frowned.
“This bank code still exists.”
Daniel looked confused.
“I've never had this account.”
We asked the bank manager.
Twenty minutes later, she returned.
“There is an account associated with this number.”
Daniel leaned forward.
“How much?”
She wouldn't tell us until identity verification was completed.
Then she looked at me strangely.
“Mrs. Carter, there's a restriction.”
“What restriction?”
“The account isn't solely in your son's name.”
She turned her monitor slightly.
A second beneficiary appeared.
I recognized the name.
Rebecca Carter.
Daniel stared at the screen.
“That’s impossible.”
Then the bank manager clicked the transaction history.
A withdrawal had been made forty-eight hours earlier.
May you like
Almost every dollar was gone.
And the authorization carried Rebecca’s signature...
