Chapter 17 - The Monday That Never CameMonday had been Grant’s finish line.
If Ethan died Saturday, Grant expected the trust process to begin immediately.
He planned to notify Miriam Sunday.
On Monday, he planned to demand recognition as contingent beneficiary.
He expected the audit to pause amid legal confusion.
He expected sympathy.
He expected chaos.
Inside that chaos, he expected to move.
Instead Ethan survived.
By Monday morning, search-and-rescue records contradicted Grant.
By Monday afternoon, police had the damaged camera.
By Tuesday, Miriam had informed the trustee.
By Wednesday, Grant’s access to company systems was restricted.
Everything he intended to gain had moved farther away.
Caleb described Grant’s reaction during a jailhouse debrief.
“He kept saying the boy should not have survived.”
Ortiz stopped him.
“When did Grant say that?”
Caleb looked uncomfortable.
“Before his arrest. Sunday night.”
“You spoke to him?”
“He came to my house.”
“What exactly did he say?”
Caleb hesitated.
“‘That rig should have finished it.’”
The room went still.
“Did you record it?”
“No.”
“Did anyone else hear?”
“My wife was upstairs.”
“Did she hear?”
“I don’t know.”
Caleb’s credibility was compromised by his own crimes.
But the statement fit the evidence.
The prosecution added it to the case, knowing the defense would attack him.
Sarah increasingly understood that trials were not clean stories.
Bad people could tell the truth.
Good people could forget.
Strong evidence could have weak spots.
Nothing resembled television.
Ethan’s world remained smaller.
School.
Therapy.
Physical recovery.
He returned to class part-time.
The first day, students stared.
One boy asked, “Did your dad really throw you off a mountain?”
The teacher intervened.
Ethan went to the bathroom and cried.
Sarah offered to take him home.
He said no.
Not because he had to prove bravery.
Because he wanted art class.
That distinction became important.
He stayed.
At home, Grant’s absence showed everywhere.
Ethan still had a toothbrush at his father’s house.
A gaming system.
Clothes.
A half-built model airplane.
Sarah asked if he wanted them retrieved.
“Not yet.”
“Okay.”
“What happens to his house?”
“I don’t know.”
“What happens if he goes to prison?”
“I don’t know.”
Ethan frowned.
“Adults don’t know much.”
Sarah smiled despite herself.
“No. We mostly hide it better.”
One evening Robert showed Ethan Arthur’s old toolbox.
“You want this someday?”
Ethan looked at it.
“Is it part of the trust?”
Robert blinked.
Then laughed softly.
“No. Just a toolbox.”
“Good.”
They both laughed.
It was the first joke Ethan had made about inheritance.
Miriam later explained the company situation to Sarah.
The trust’s fifty-one-percent stake remained Ethan’s beneficial interest.
A professional trustee would oversee it until adulthood.
Sarah could not simply take the money.
Neither could Ethan.
Nor could Grant.
“That matters,” Miriam said.
“Why?”
“Because Grant’s defense keeps implying you engineered this for financial control. Legally, you cannot control those assets.”
Sarah exhaled.
One accusation weakened.
Then Miriam handed her a civil complaint drafted by the company.
Hale Ridge Outfitters was suing Grant and Caleb for fraud, breach of fiduciary duty, conversion, and related claims.
Damages sought:
More than twelve million dollars including fees and losses.
“If the company wins?”
“Grant’s twenty-nine-percent stake could eventually be reached by creditors or judgments.”
Sarah stared at the number.
Grant had tried to kill Ethan to gain control of Hale Ridge.
Now the fraud itself could cost him the piece he already owned.
May you like
Monday had come.
Just not the way Grant planned.
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