Chapter 5: What Thomas Knew
My father read the message twice.
Then he set the phone face-down on his knee and said nothing.
"What does it say?" Lauren asked.
"He wants to know if the foundation board seats are transferable."
The room went very still.
Lauren's face moved through several expressions in quick succession — confusion, then something slower and more uncomfortable.
"He's asking about the board seats," my mother repeated.
"Before he's even asked if Miranda is all right," my father said.
Lauren stood up.
"He doesn't know the full situation.
He's just—"
"He's asking about the money," I said.
"That's the full situation, Lauren."
She turned to face me.
Her chin lifted slightly.
"Thomas cares about this family."
"Thomas has been unemployed for fourteen months," I said.
"He cares about this family's assets."
"That's not fair."
"Isn't it?" I looked at her steadily.
"The nursery that isn't being used yet.
The house in Ridgefield you couldn't have afforded on your own.
The move that required both of our parents on a day I was in surgery." I paused.
"How much of the down payment came from Mom and Dad, Lauren?"
Silence.
"Lauren."
"That's private," she said.
"It came from the lake house equity," my father said quietly.
He wasn't looking at Lauren.
He was looking at the floor.
"We took a line of credit against it last spring."
My mother made a sharp sound.
"Richard—"
"She should know," he said.
"She would have found out anyway."
I looked at my father.
"You leveraged the lake house to fund Lauren's down payment."
"It was a loan.
Between family."
"The lake house that was listed in my will," I said.
"The one you expected to inherit."
He didn't answer.
Julian had gone very still near the door.
He wasn't writing anything down.
He didn't need to.
He had heard enough.
"So the foundation board seats," I said slowly.
"The education trusts.
The emergency account access.
Those weren't just names on a document to you.
You were already spending against them."
"Miranda, that is not—"
"Were you?" I asked.
My father looked up.
His eyes were tired and honest in a way they hadn't been all evening.
"We had expectations," he said.
"Yes."
The word landed like a stone dropped into still water.
Lauren's phone buzzed.
She looked at the screen and her expression tightened.
"Thomas is outside," she said.
"In the parking lot."
"He drove from Ridgefield?" my mother asked.
"He was already on his way before I left." Lauren's voice was careful now.
"He wanted to be here."
"To support you," I said.
"Yes."
"Or to be in the room when the conversation happened."
Lauren didn't answer.
"Tell him to go home," I said.
"Miranda—"
"Tell him to go home, Lauren.
This is a family conversation.
And right now I'm deciding who that word still applies to."
Lauren stared at me.
Then she looked at our parents.
Our mother gave a small nod.
Lauren typed something.
Her phone buzzed once in reply.
She read it and her jaw tightened.
"He says he has something you should see," she said.
"Something about your company."
Julian's head turned.
"What about my company?" I asked.
Lauren looked at the message again.
Her face had gone carefully neutral — the expression she wore when she knew something she wasn't sure she should say.
"He says he's been talking to someone," she said.
"Someone from your board."
The monitor beside my bed beeped its steady rhythm.
"Which board member?" Julian asked.
May you like
Lauren looked up.
"He didn't say."
