Chapter 9 - The Payment from 2022The payment was $325,000.
It had gone from one of Thomas Grant’s personal investment accounts to Northbridge Care Group in November 2022.
Four months before his death.
Allison stared at Mara.
“Why?”
“I don’t know the full reason.”
“You were his lawyer.”
“For company matters. Not everything.”
“You said he asked you not to tell me.”
“He asked me to keep a sealed memorandum.”
Mara unlocked a cabinet in her office.
From inside, she removed a white envelope bearing Thomas’s handwriting.
For Allison, if the Northbridge matter ever becomes relevant.
Allison’s chest tightened.
Camille sat beside her.
Mara handed Allison the envelope.
“Your father instructed that it remain sealed unless Northbridge asserted a claim against the company or unless the payment became part of litigation.”
“Derek knew about it.”
“Apparently.”
Allison opened the envelope.
Inside was a two-page statement.
Thomas explained that Northbridge had once been a potential joint-venture partner.
During due diligence, Thomas discovered a billing-compliance problem inside one Northbridge subsidiary.
The issue did not involve Grant Medical Properties.
But Northbridge threatened to sue Thomas for withdrawing from the deal and publicly blaming their compliance concerns.
To avoid years of litigation, Thomas entered a confidential settlement.
The $325,000 was settlement money.
Not stolen company funds.
Not an undisclosed distribution to Allison.
Nothing involving Camille’s inheritance.
At the bottom, Thomas had written:
Derek knows there was a payment but does not know the legal basis. I regret ever discussing it with him.
Camille lowered her head.
“He used this.”
Allison looked at her.
“What did he tell you?”
“That Dad paid Northbridge because he was hiding money for you.”
Allison felt exhausted by the simplicity of it.
Derek had not needed elaborate lies.
He only needed facts with missing context.
A mysterious payment.
An unequal ownership split.
A younger sister who already felt overlooked.
Camille began crying.
“I wanted to believe him.”
Allison folded the letter.
“Yes.”
“Because if he was right, then I wasn’t just jealous.”
Allison said nothing.
Camille continued.
“I was wronged.”
“And that felt better.”
“Yes.”
The honesty hurt.
Mara leaned back.
“This letter will matter.”
“How?”
“It establishes that the Northbridge payment had a legitimate purpose and that Derek lacked the information he later claimed to have.”
Allison nodded.
“So he invented the rest.”
“Likely.”
Camille wiped her eyes.
“There’s something I haven’t told you.”
Allison stared at her.
Camille swallowed.
“Derek asked me to photograph documents in Dad’s office before he died.”
Allison’s body went still.
“Before?”
“Only once.”
“When?”
“About six months before.”
Allison remembered Thomas’s email warning Derek.
“What documents?”
“Ownership schedules. Insurance policies. The operating agreement.”
“Why?”
“He told me he was updating an estate-planning file for Dad.”
“Did Dad know?”
“I assumed he did.”
Allison laughed bitterly.
“You assumed a lot.”
“I know.”
“Did you send them?”
“Yes.”
“To Derek?”
“Yes.”
Allison stood.
The affair had not begun.
Camille’s company had not yet failed.
Their father was alive.
And Derek was already using Camille to gather information.
“Did he ask about my signature?”
Camille frowned.
“What?”
“Think.”
Camille stared at the table.
Then her expression changed.
“He asked why your signature looked different on contracts.”
Allison’s skin went cold.
“What did you tell him?”
“That Dad taught us to make small marks on important signatures.”
The tiny break in Allison’s H.
The flaw missing from the forged consent.
Camille covered her mouth.
“Oh God.”
Allison stepped away.
Derek had learned about the signature detail years earlier.
But he had forgotten it when he forged the document.
Or thought Allison would not notice.
Mara said, “Allison, we need to preserve Camille’s phone immediately.”
Camille nodded.
“I’ll give you everything.”
Her phone vibrated before she handed it over.
Derek.
Camille looked at Allison.
“What do I do?”
Allison stared at the screen.
“Answer.”
Camille pressed speaker.
Derek’s voice filled the room.
“Where are you?”
Camille looked at Allison.
“With my attorney.”
Derek went silent.
Then:
“You stupid little girl.”
Allison’s face hardened.
Derek continued.
“If you give them your phone, you go down with me.”
Camille began shaking.
Allison leaned close to the phone.
“No, Derek.”
Silence.
Then Allison said:
“She goes down for what she did.”
May you like
Derek’s breathing changed.
“And so do you.”
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