Chapter 10 - Celeste’s CounterattackCeleste did not stay quiet.
Her attorney sent Conrad a letter accusing Northstar of wrongful suspension.
Then a second letter arguing the Carson Ridge transaction was legitimate.
Then she called him directly.
He answered once.
“Conrad, you’re letting one terrible nanny incident destroy everything.”
His hand tightened around the phone.
“One?”
“You know what I mean.”
“No. Explain.”
“Maureen hurt Wren. I didn’t.”
“True.”
Celeste exhaled.
“Thank you.”
“Don’t mistake accuracy for absolution.”
Silence.
“You paid Maureen.”
“For administrative work.”
“You wrote that she could keep Wren quiet.”
“I meant keep her from repeating confidential business.”
“She was eight.”
“I know.”
“You forged a preliminary consent.”
“It was a placeholder.”
“You planned to bury the real consent in thirty-eight pages.”
“I expected you to read it.”
Conrad laughed.
“No, you didn’t.”
Celeste’s voice sharpened.
“You sign family-office packets every quarter.”
“Exactly.”
“You were going to rely on habit.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
Then Celeste changed direction.
“Elise agreed Carson Ridge might need to be sold.”
Conrad froze.
“What?”
“I have proof.”
An email arrived.
PDF.
Letter signed by Elise.
I understand that circumstances may eventually require a sale of Carson Ridge if maintaining the property no longer serves Wren.
Conrad read twice.
Signature looked real.
Celeste said:
“She wasn’t as absolute as you think.”
The letter continued.
I trust the family to make a reasonable decision when the time comes.
Conrad felt uncertainty.
Celeste heard it.
“You see?”
“Where did this come from?”
“Family-office files.”
“Why wasn’t it in Elise’s box?”
“Because Elise wrote it to me.”
“When?”
“Four months before she died.”
Conrad sent it to Maya.
Then Celeste said:
“Ask yourself why Elise’s box contains only documents supporting her suspicion.”
Conrad’s stomach tightened.
“Because she collected evidence?”
“Or because someone curated a story.”
“Who?”
“Marisol.”
Conrad almost laughed.
“Now you blame the cook.”
“She had access.”
“Stop.”
Celeste continued:
“You want everything clean. Maureen monster. Me thief. Elise prophet.”
“No.”
Conrad’s voice softened.
“I want what’s true.”
“Then accept that Elise considered selling.”
“Considering a future sale is not the same as stealing three million dollars of value.”
“It wasn’t stealing.”
“High Mesa.”
Celeste went silent.
Conrad continued:
“Even if Elise said sell one day, she didn’t say pay you $1.25 million secretly.”
Celeste hung up.
Maya called an hour later.
“The Elise letter signature appears genuine.”
Conrad felt his stomach drop.
“But?”
“The PDF was created six weeks ago.”
“What?”
“The paper may be old. The digital scan is recent.”
“That proves nothing.”
“Correct.”
“Can we find the original?”
“We’re asking Celeste.”
Celeste produced it through counsel.
Original paper.
Elise’s real signature.
No obvious alteration.
Conrad felt the case become more complicated.
Good.
Truth was allowed to complicate.
Then Maya noticed the letterhead.
It came from Elise’s personal stationery.
And the text was typed.
Elise almost always wrote personal family letters by hand.
Not proof.
Just odd.
A document examiner compared printer marks.
The text had been printed after the signature was already on the page.
Conrad stared.
“What does that mean?”
“The signature was on blank or differently worded stationery first.”
His skin went cold.
They found the source days later.
Elise had signed blank stationery for thank-you notes during her final months because her hands tired easily.
Maureen helped prepare them.
One of those signed blank sheets could have been kept.
Celeste’s letter was not simply misleading.
The body text had been added later to a page bearing Elise’s genuine signature.
Conrad called Celeste.
“You used Elise’s signature after she died.”
Silence.
“Answer me.”
Celeste whispered:
“It reflected what she told me.”
“No.”
“She considered selling.”
“Then show me a real document.”
“I don’t have one.”
“Because she didn’t authorize this.”
Celeste started crying.
“You think I’m a monster.”
Conrad closed his eyes.
“No.”
“Then what?”
“My sister who got desperate enough to start believing her own lies.”
Celeste whispered:
“You have no idea what I was trying to save.”
“What?”
She did not answer.
Conrad’s voice hardened.
“What were you trying to save?”
Celeste ended the call.
The question remained.
Two-point-three-five million in liabilities was bad.
But Conrad suddenly suspected Celeste’s desperation was tied to something larger than a failed investment.
And unlike the first four chapters, this question could wait.
May you like
Because now he already knew the central truth:
His sister had been willing to forge his dead wife’s intentions to control Wren’s property.
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