Chapter 10 - Mason’s RoomMason began removing things from his bedroom.
Designer sneakers.
A gaming console.
Two expensive watches Irene had given him.
His father found everything stacked near the door.
“What are you doing?”
“Giving it back.”
“You don’t have to.”
“It came from Lila.”
“We don’t know that all of it did.”
“Some did.”
Mason looked sick.
“I don’t want any of it.”
His father sat on the bed.
“Mason, you didn’t steal anything.”
“I took it.”
“You were a child receiving gifts.”
“I still liked it.”
“You were supposed to.”
Mason wiped his eyes angrily.
“Then why do I feel bad?”
“Because you love your sister.”
Mason stared at the floor.
His father continued:
“Guilt can tell you something matters. It shouldn’t tell you that you committed someone else’s wrongdoing.”
Mason asked:
“What do I do?”
“Start by treating Lila like your sister instead of trying to repay a debt she never gave you.”
That evening, Mason went to the kitchen.
Lila was doing homework.
He placed the phone box on the table.
“The store will take it back.”
Lila shrugged.
“Okay.”
“Do you want anything instead?”
“No.”
“Not even half the money?”
“No.”
He looked confused.
“Why?”
“Because I wanted them to be happy about my test.”
Mason’s face fell.
“It wasn’t really the phone.”
“No.”
He sat opposite her.
“I was happy about your ninety-eight.”
“You didn’t say.”
“I know.”
He looked down.
“I’m saying now.”
Lila finally smiled slightly.
“Thanks.”
Two days later, the phone was returned.
The refund went back to Lila’s trust under First Atlantic’s supervision.
It was financially insignificant compared with hundreds of thousands of dollars.
Emotionally, it mattered.
Irene heard.
She called Mason directly.
“You humiliated me.”
Mason looked at his father.
He put the call on speaker.
“I returned a phone.”
“It was a gift.”
“Bought with Lila’s money.”
“You do not understand accounting.”
“I understand whose name was on the receipt.”
Irene changed tactics.
“I have always believed in you.”
Mason’s face tightened.
“Do you believe in Lila?”
Silence.
“Mason—”
“Yes or no?”
Irene exhaled.
“Your sister has strengths.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“You are older.”
“So?”
“You’re different.”
“So?”
Irene snapped:
“Because someone has to lead this family!”
Mason went quiet.
Then:
“Why?”
“What?”
“Why does one kid have to be better?”
Irene had no answer.
After the call, Mason sat beside Lila.
“She’s mad.”
Lila nodded.
“She’s always mad when people ask questions.”
Mason laughed softly.
“You sound like Grandpa.”
“Apparently that’s bad.”
“No.”
He smiled.
“I think it’s why he liked you.”
A week later, the family moved out of the mansion.
Not into another estate.
Into a four-bedroom rental home ten minutes from the children’s schools.
Mason’s room was half the size.
Lila’s had one small closet.
Their mother cried the first night.
Lila didn’t.
She sat at the kitchen counter.
The sink contained four dirty plates.
Their father started washing them.
Mason dried.
Lila picked up a towel.
Their father shook his head.
“Homework.”
“We can help.”
“Then we all help.”
Their mother joined them.
For the first time Lila could remember, dishes were not punishment.
They were simply dishes.
Then the doorbell rang.
A courier handed their father a legal envelope.
First Atlantic had filed a petition in probate court.
They were seeking Irene’s immediate removal as trustee.
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And because Lila’s mother had signed the disputed distributions—
the petition named her too.
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