Chapter 4 - Everyone Knew Except MalloryBy noon, Mallory had made a list.
Bernice.
Richard Vale.
Aunt Diane.
Possibly Todd.
Possibly Franklin.
Anyone else from the birthday party whose face had changed when the paper appeared.
She hated herself for thinking like that.
These were people who had attended Thanksgiving dinners in her home.
People who held Elsie as a baby.
People who came to Edward Barrett’s funeral and told Mallory they would always be family.
Now she was writing their names beneath the heading:
WHO KNEW?
Aunt Diane was the easiest place to start.
Mallory called.
Diane didn’t answer.
Mallory called again.
Voicemail.
She sent a text.
I need to speak with you privately about the house. Today.
Three dots appeared.
Disappeared.
Appeared again.
Finally:
I don’t want to get involved.
Mallory stared.
Then typed:
You already are.
Ten minutes later, Diane called.
“You shouldn’t be putting me in the middle.”
Mallory closed her eyes.
“That sentence is becoming very popular.”
“Bernice should explain this.”
“She isn’t.”
“Then I can’t help you.”
“Did you know there were documents to transfer my house?”
Diane hesitated.
“Not exactly.”
“What did you know?”
“I knew Bernice was trying to straighten out some financial things.”
“What financial things?”
“She said Edward’s estate had been structured unfairly.”
“That isn’t a financial thing. That’s an opinion.”
“You know how your mother felt about the house.”
“No. Apparently I didn’t.”
Diane sighed.
“Mallory, your mother spent thirty-five years in that home.”
“So?”
“You inherited it.”
“Yes.”
“It was hard for her.”
“Dad gave her lifetime residency. She was never going to be homeless.”
“That isn’t the point.”
Mallory’s patience thinned.
“What is the point?”
Diane lowered her voice.
“The point is Bernice thinks Edward humiliated her.”
“By leaving me his house?”
“By making her dependent on you.”
Mallory stared out the kitchen window.
The backyard was covered in August sunlight.
Elsie’s balloons still floated from the patio railing.
“Did you help her?”
Diane said nothing.
“Diane.”
“I witnessed a conversation.”
“What conversation?”
“Bernice and Richard.”
“When?”
“About six weeks ago.”
“Where?”
“At lunch.”
“Why were you there?”
“Bernice asked me to come.”
Mallory’s stomach tightened.
“What did they discuss?”
“Putting the house into some kind of LLC.”
“Why?”
“She said it was for estate planning.”
“My estate?”
“Family estate planning.”
“There is no family ownership. I own it.”
“I know that now.”
Mallory’s voice sharpened.
“You knew it then.”
Diane went silent.
Mallory continued.
“What did Richard say?”
“That he would need your consent.”
“And?”
“Bernice said she would have it.”
“Did she say I’d already agreed?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
“She said you trusted her.”
Mallory felt ill.
Diane continued quietly.
“I thought she was going to talk to you.”
“You watched her prepare documents designed to move my house into another entity and assumed she’d eventually mention it?”
“I didn’t know the details.”
“Did anyone?”
Another pause.
“Diane.”
“Todd knew something.”
“Who else?”
“I don’t know.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“Franklin heard about it.”
“Who else?”
“Maybe Paula.”
Mallory closed her eyes.
Four people.
At least.
“Why was everyone at Elsie’s party yesterday?”
Diane hesitated again.
Mallory suddenly understood.
“That party wasn’t just for Elsie.”
“No.”
The word landed hard.
“What was it?”
“Bernice said she wanted everyone together.”
“For what?”
“She thought you might sign yesterday.”
Mallory stared at the birthday decorations.
“What?”
“She told us you were coming home in the afternoon.”
“I wasn’t supposed to be home until Sunday.”
“She said you’d sign electronically.”
Mallory’s pulse quickened.
“Sign what?”
“I don’t know exactly.”
“You were there.”
“She said she was finally getting the house issue resolved.”
“And then?”
Diane spoke so softly Mallory almost didn’t hear.
“She said once it was done, everybody could stop pretending the house belonged only to you.”
Mallory went cold.
“What does that mean?”
“I don’t know.”
“You do.”
“No.”
“Diane.”
“I swear.”
Mallory stood.
“Did she promise anybody money?”
Silence.
That silence was longer than the others.
“How much?”
“I was never promised anything.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
“I heard Todd mention numbers once.”
Mallory’s stomach turned.
“What numbers?”
“Shares.”
“Shares of what?”
Diane exhaled.
“If the house was eventually sold.”
Mallory gripped the counter.
The home had been appraised at roughly $1.8 million the previous year.
Paid off.
No mortgage.
Her father had left it to provide stability for Mallory and the girls.
Now relatives were apparently discussing “shares.”
“How many people believed they were getting money?”
“I don’t know.”
“Try.”
“Maybe five or six.”
Mallory laughed once.
It sounded wrong even to her.
“My four-year-old’s birthday party was being used as a celebration for stealing my house.”
“No one used that word.”
“What word would you prefer?”
“Bernice believed—”
“I don’t care what Bernice believed.”
Mallory heard movement behind her.
She turned.
Bernice stood in the kitchen doorway.
She had clearly heard at least some of the call.
Mallory ended it.
Her mother looked composed.
Almost amused.
“You’re interrogating the family now?”
“I’m learning who my family is.”
Bernice walked toward the coffee machine.
“You’re embarrassing yourself.”
“No.”
Mallory placed both hands on the island.
“You embarrassed yourself.”
Bernice poured coffee.
“You think these people are conspiring against you.”
“They were discussing shares of the sale price of my house.”
Bernice stopped.
Only briefly.
Mallory saw it.
“Who told you that?”
“So it’s true.”
Bernice turned.
“I asked who told you.”
Mallory smiled faintly.
“That’s the first honest reaction you’ve had.”
Bernice set down the cup.
“You have no idea what financial pressure this family has been under.”
“And somehow my house solves it?”
“It could.”
Mallory stared.
Bernice seemed to realize she had gone too far.
But instead of retreating, she doubled down.
“Your father hoarded wealth while everyone around him struggled.”
“He supported half this family for twenty years.”
“He controlled them.”
“And you decided the solution was to give away property he left to me?”
“To us.”
“No. To me.”
Bernice’s eyes flashed.
“There it is again.”
“What?”
“That smug little ownership.”
Mallory almost shouted.
Instead she lowered her voice.
“My daughters live here.”
“So do I.”
“My daughters’ security comes before Todd’s bad investments or Franklin’s credit cards.”
Bernice’s mouth tightened.
“You think you know everything.”
“I know enough.”
“No.”
Bernice stepped closer.
“You know one page.”
Mallory felt a chill.
“What else is there?”
Bernice smiled.
“You should ask Diane why your father changed his will.”
Mallory froze.
“What?”
Bernice picked up her coffee.
“You’ve spent four years believing Edward left you this house because he adored you.”
She walked toward the hallway.
“He had another reason.”
“What reason?”
Bernice stopped but didn’t turn around.
“Ask your aunt.”
Then she left.
Mallory immediately called Diane again.
This time Diane answered on the first ring.
Mallory didn’t bother with hello.
“Why did Dad leave me the house?”
Silence.
Then Diane whispered:
May you like
“Oh, God.”
And Mallory knew there was another secret.
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