Chapter 5 - THE FAMILY MEETING
Greg closed his auto shop early for our meeting. Bright showroom lights reflected across polished cars, chrome wheels, and glass offices funded partly by money I had earned in Calgary.
Susan arrived carrying a leather folder and wearing the hummingbird necklace. Paige chose to come with Marcus and me, despite my fear that the place would reopen wounds.
She wore a soft blue scarf over her head and a clean jacket from the hospital charity closet. Her body remained fragile, but her eyes no longer stayed fixed on the floor.
Greg greeted us like business partners. He had arranged bottled water, pastries, and printed proposals describing expansion plans that required exactly two hundred fifty thousand dollars.
Susan's proposal asked for a townhouse in her name, supposedly to create rental income for the family. She called it a safe asset with long-term benefits.
Marcus explained that no investment decisions could happen until prior financial relationships were disclosed. He distributed the forms and said accuracy mattered because settlement administrators might review them.
That last sentence made Greg sit straighter. He asked whether the settlement company could reject payments if family arrangements seemed unclear. Marcus answered that complete records always made review easier.
Susan immediately began minimizing previous transfers. She said the money I sent had been household support, not restricted funds. Greg called his business assistance an informal family investment.
I asked why several transfers were labeled Cancer Care. Susan said she used whatever description helped her remember why money arrived, not necessarily how every dollar was spent.
Paige looked at her without blinking. Susan avoided her eyes and began writing. The scratching of pens became the loudest sound in the showroom.
Greg declared eighty thousand dollars in business support, far less than bank records showed. Susan listed twenty-three thousand in renovations, though contractor payments exceeded twice that amount.
Marcus did not correct them. He simply asked whether they were certain. Both signed every page after making small changes that protected themselves rather than telling the truth.
Then Susan opened her own folder. She produced a document claiming Paige owed the household thirty-eight thousand dollars for food, utilities, transportation, and damage caused during illness.
Paige's face drained of color. Her signature appeared on the bottom. She whispered that she had never seen the completed document and had signed a blank sheet months earlier.
Marcus asked Susan when the document was prepared. Susan gave a date. Marcus asked who witnessed it. Greg said he had, creating another fact we could test.
I asked why a sick woman sleeping in my storage shed owed nearly forty thousand dollars for luxury household expenses. Greg told me not to become emotional.
That sentence broke something in Paige. She stood, trembling, and asked Greg whether emotion bothered him when she begged for food after chemotherapy.
Greg snapped that she was twisting everything. He said the family had supported her while I abandoned everyone for money. His voice rose with each word.
Then he made the mistake Marcus had predicted. Greg said Paige should sign new paperwork releasing any claim to the house before she poisoned me against my own family.
Susan reached into the folder and placed a deed-related document on the table. It transferred Paige's marital interest in certain property rights to a family company they had already formed.
I stared at the company name. Bellmere Family Holdings had been registered only nine days earlier, two days after I announced the million-dollar settlement.
Marcus asked who owned Bellmere. Susan said ownership was temporary and would later include me. Greg controlled sixty percent. Susan controlled forty percent.
Paige refused to sign. Greg moved around the table and grabbed her wrist. His fingers tightened while he told her this was the least she could do after causing years of trouble.
I was on my feet before I realized it. I removed his hand from Paige and stepped between them, but I did not strike him.
Greg shoved my shoulder and accused me of choosing a dying woman over blood. The showroom went silent except for the hum of fluorescent lights.
I told him Paige was my blood by choice, promise, and every day we had built together. Then I asked whether he wanted to repeat his sentence for the camera.
Greg looked toward the ceiling. His security system covered the showroom from three angles. Marcus had noticed the cameras before we sat down.
Susan suddenly demanded we leave. Marcus calmly gathered the signed disclosure forms, the debt document, and the proposed transfer paperwork they had voluntarily handed us.
Greg tried to take the folder back. Marcus reminded him that copies already existed and any destruction of business footage after a formal preservation notice could create additional problems.
The color left Greg's face. For the first time since I returned, greed gave way to fear.
May you like
Outside, Paige leaned against the car and breathed through shaking hands. She expected me to apologize for what happened. Instead, I told her she had finally said no where they could hear it.
As we drove away, Marcus looked at the signed forms on his lap. The trap had worked, but the next step would no longer be private.
