Chapter 8: The Brother Who Knew Everything
Thomas Vail lived forty minutes away in a house that was nicer than it should have been for a man who, as far as I had ever known, worked in logistics and complained about money at every family dinner.
I had not told Marcus I was going.
I had not told anyone except Carol, who sat in the passenger seat and said very little on the drive over.
Thomas answered the door in a weekend shirt with a coffee mug in his hand.
When he saw me, the mug stopped halfway to his mouth.
"Olivia," he said.
"Hello, Thomas."
He looked past me at Carol.
Then back at me.
"Marcus isn't here," he said.
"I know.
I came to see you."
He didn't move for a moment.
Then he stepped back from the door.
We sat in his living room.
It was well-furnished.
A large television.
New sofa.
A painting on the wall that looked expensive.
Thomas set his mug on the coffee table and sat across from us with his hands between his knees.
"My lawyer found the LLC," I said.
"She found the account.
She found your name."
Thomas looked at the floor.
"How long have you been receiving money from Marcus?" I said.
"Olivia, this is between me and my brother—"
"It is not between you and your brother.
It is marital money being transferred to a company in your name without my knowledge." I kept my voice even.
"How long, Thomas?"
He rubbed the back of his neck.
"Six years."
"And what was the arrangement?"
"He said it was — he said it was tax planning.
That it was cleaner to run certain things through a separate entity."
"Did you believe that?"
He didn't answer immediately.
"Did you know about Renee?" I said.
His jaw tightened.
"I knew there was someone.
I didn't know the details."
"Did you know about Daniel?"
A pause.
"Yes."
Carol made a small sound beside me.
I kept my eyes on Thomas.
"You knew Marcus had a child," I said.
"You knew he was hiding money.
And you sat at my dinner table for fifteen years and said nothing."
"He's my brother."
"I was your family too."
Thomas looked up.
For a moment he looked genuinely pained.
Then he looked away again, which told me everything I needed to know about the weight he had given that fact.
"What do you want from me?" he said.
"I want a full accounting of every transfer.
Every amount, every date, every purpose Marcus gave you." I leaned forward slightly.
"And I want it in writing, given to my lawyer, before Marcus knows we've had this conversation."
"If I do that—"
"If you don't, my lawyer will pursue the LLC as a fraudulent asset vehicle and your name will be on every document she files." I held his gaze.
"You have until tomorrow morning."
He picked up his mug.
Set it down without drinking.
"He told me you'd never find out," Thomas said quietly.
"He said you weren't the type to look."
I stood up.
"He was wrong about that," I said.
On the drive home, Carol stared out the passenger window for a long time.
"Thomas knew," she said finally.
"All those dinners.
All those Christmases."
"Yes."
"How are you feeling?"
I thought about it honestly.
"Like I'm finally seeing the actual shape of things," I said.
"It's terrible.
But it's clearer than anything has felt in a long time."
My phone rang.
Marcus.
I let it ring.
Then it rang again.
And again.
Then a text: *Thomas just called me.
Olivia, do NOT do this.
May you like
You don't understand what you're about to destroy.*
I forwarded it to Grace and put the phone in my bag.
