Chapter 7: Face to Face
I looked at Derek for a long moment without speaking.
He was good-looking in a polished way — the kind of man who had learned early that charm was a tool and had been sharpening it ever since.
The smile stayed in place.
His hands stayed in his pockets.
He was performing relaxed.
Brenda was sitting on the top step with her arms wrapped around herself, not looking at either of us.
"You should leave," I said.
"I drove four hours," Derek said pleasantly.
"I'd like five minutes."
"You should have called first."
"I did call.
You didn't answer." The smile didn't waver.
"Look, I understand you're upset.
I understand Brenda has painted a certain picture.
But there are two sides to this, and I think if you hear mine, you'll see things differently."
"My lawyer has advised me not to speak with you directly."
"You're not in a courtroom." He tilted his head slightly.
"We're just two people talking on a porch."
"Get off my property, Derek."
Something shifted behind his eyes.
Not anger — something colder than that.
He glanced at Brenda, then back at me.
"She came to you with documents," he said.
"Whatever she gave you — you should know she's been trying to have me removed from my mother's life for years.
She's not a neutral party."
"Neither are you."
"Fair enough." He took one step closer to the bottom of the stairs.
"But consider this.
Your father is dying.
He has maybe six months, according to his cardiologist.
In that six months, you can drag him through a legal battle, put him on the stand, force him to relive everything — or you can let him spend his remaining time in peace." He paused.
"I'm not the villain here, Claire.
I'm the one who was actually there.
For four years.
While you were gone."
It was a good speech.
I could tell he had rehearsed it.
"While I was gone," I repeated.
"You mean while I was living in my car at eighteen because your mother had me thrown out."
"That was between you and Brenda.
I had nothing to do with—"
"You benefited from it." My voice stayed level.
"You walked into a family that already had a daughter written out of it and you made sure she stayed written out.
Permanently.
That's not being there for someone.
That's positioning."
His jaw tightened.
The smile finally slipped.
"I want the will withdrawn," I said.
"I want the property transfers reviewed by a court.
And I want my father's assets protected while he's still alive.
If you cooperate with that process, things go easier for everyone.
If you don't—" I held his gaze— "Janet Reeves is very good at her job."
"You're making a mistake," he said.
The pleasantness was completely gone now.
"Maybe.
But it's mine to make."
He looked at me for a long moment.
Then he looked at Brenda.
"You did this," he said to her.
His voice had dropped to something quiet and precise.
"You couldn't just let it go."
Brenda looked up at him.
And for the first time since she'd appeared on my doorstep, she didn't look afraid.
"No," she said.
"I couldn't."
Derek turned and walked back to his car without another word.
He didn't slam the door.
He pulled out of the driveway carefully, signaled at the corner, and drove away like a man who was already planning his next move.
I watched until the car disappeared.
"He'll go to your father," Brenda said quietly from the step.
"He'll try to get there before you can explain."
"I know." I already had my phone out.
"Go inside.
There's coffee on."
She blinked.
"Inside?"
"Don't make me say it twice."
She stood up slowly and went inside.
I dialed Gerald's number.
He answered on the second ring.
"Derek is on his way to you," I said.
"Don't let him be alone with Dad.
Not for a minute."
"Claire—"
"Gerald.
Please."
A pause.
"Okay.
Okay, I hear you."
"I'm going to tell Dad everything tonight.
I need him to hear it from me first."
"He's having a good day," Gerald said quietly.
"He's been up, had breakfast.
He was asking about the baby this morning."
Something tightened in my chest.
"Good.
That's good." I steadied my voice.
"Keep Derek out of that house until I call back."
I hung up and stood on the porch for a moment in the cold air.
Then I went inside, where Brenda was sitting at my kitchen table with a mug of coffee, and I sat down across from her.
"Tell me everything you know about Stuart Phipps," I said.
"Everything.
May you like
From the beginning."
She wrapped both hands around the mug and started talking.
