Chapter 5: The Meeting I Wasn't Supposed to Know About
Three days passed without a word from either of them.
Then my dad called on a Wednesday morning, earlier than usual.
"I went to the bank yesterday," he said.
I sat up straighter.
"And?"
"There's a joint account I didn't remember opening.
Karen's name is on it.
It was opened about eighteen months ago." He paused.
"There have been regular transfers into it.
From my savings."
My mouth went dry.
"How regular?"
"Every month.
For about fourteen months." Another pause.
"Thomas, it adds up to a significant amount."
"How significant?"
He told me the number.
I didn't say anything for a moment.
"Dad, did you authorize those transfers?"
"I don't remember signing anything like that.
But Karen handles most of the paperwork.
She says I forget things.
That I've been forgetful since my surgery two years ago."
"Have you been forgetful?"
A long silence.
"I don't think so.
Not like she says."
"Okay." I kept my voice calm, even though my hands were not.
"Did you call the lawyer I sent you?"
"I have an appointment tomorrow."
"Good.
Don't tell Karen about it.
Don't mention the bank visit either."
"She's going to notice."
"Let her notice after the appointment."
He agreed.
He sounded tired but steadier than the day before.
Like something had been confirmed that he had been quietly afraid to look at for a long time.
After we hung up, I sat at my kitchen table for a long time.
Fourteen months of transfers.
Started around the same time Mia moved in.
Karen managing the paperwork.
Karen setting up his phone.
Karen sending messages in his name.
And Mia, living rent-free in my apartment, keeping me distracted.
Keeping me focused on the wrong problem.
I called Sandra.
"I think Mia was a distraction," I said when she picked up.
"Explain."
"Mia moves into my apartment.
Creates constant friction.
I'm dealing with her, arguing with her, supporting her financially.
Meanwhile Karen has full access to my dad's accounts, his phone, his paperwork.
Eighteen months of transfers I don't know about because I'm too busy being the family problem."
Sandra was quiet for a moment.
"That's a serious allegation."
"I know."
"Do you have any evidence that Mia and Karen coordinated this deliberately?"
"Not yet."
"Then we stay focused on what we can prove.
The furniture.
The message from your father's phone.
And now the financial irregularities — but that's your father's case to pursue, not yours."
"I know.
But Sandra—"
"I know," she said.
"One thing at a time."
That afternoon, my phone buzzed with a message from a cousin I hadn't spoken to in two years.
Her name was Diane.
She was my mother's niece, not Karen's family.
We had drifted after my mother passed.
The message said: *Thomas.
I heard what's been going on.
I think we need to talk.
Not on the phone.
Can you meet me?*
I stared at it.
Diane had been at the last family Christmas before everything fell apart.
She had been quiet that night.
I remembered thinking she seemed uncomfortable.
I typed back: *When and where?*
Her reply came fast.
*Tomorrow.
May you like
There's something I saw two years ago that I should have told you then.
I'm sorry I didn't.*
