“Thomas is dead?”
Daniel nodded.
“Five years.”
The room became very still.
“And Melissa?”
“Noah’s mother.”
I stared at him.
“Then why are you paying for their house?”
“Because Thomas asked me to take care of them.”
“With our money.”
His face tightened.
“I tried to handle it myself.”
“By lying.”
“Yes.”
At least he admitted it.
I looked through the documents again.
The money began making more sense.
Mortgage payments.
Repairs.
School fees.
Medical bills.
Small transfers.
Large transfers.
Too many details to absorb at once.
“Why wouldn’t you tell me?”
Daniel’s face changed.
“Because Mom didn’t want anyone to know about Thomas.”
I looked at Eleanor.
She stared at the floor.
Daniel continued.
“And because I thought you’d tell me it wasn’t our responsibility.”
“You never gave me the chance.”
“I know.”
“No, you don’t.”
I closed the folder.
“You made decisions with my money for years while telling me I was selfish for working.”
