George’s face crumpled.
“We’re already carrying it.”
He wasn’t angry.
He was scared.
Jeffrey looked at me.
“At the visit, she kept asking about the company.”
“I know.”
“No. More than we told you.”
My stomach tightened.
“What else?”
George answered.
“She asked if we inherit it when you die.”
I felt suddenly cold.
“What exactly did she say?”
George thought.
“Something like, ‘I suppose you boys get everything someday.’ Then she asked whether you ever talked about who owns the shares.”
Jeffrey added, “She asked whether you had signed things putting the company in our names.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
George rubbed his eyes.
“Because you already looked tired.”
Of everything Vanessa had done, that sentence made me angriest.
My twelve-year-old grandson was hiding his fear because he thought I had too much to handle.
I took both boys’ hands.
“You never need to protect me from the truth.”
