Chapter 6 - His Name on Every Page
Lena told Gabriel to save the message.
“Don’t argue with her by text.”
“She’s threatening me.”
“She’s trying to get a response she can use. Give her facts through me.”
At ten that morning, Gabriel received the first batch of documents from Westbridge.
By noon, his dining table was covered.
Invoices.
Care summaries.
Authorization pages.
His signature appeared throughout.
So did descriptions of Amelia that made him grip the edges of the paper.
Unmanageable.
Attention-seeking.
Frequent disruptive behavior.
The reports claimed she needed long periods of separation from family activities.
Gabriel pushed back his chair.
“They wrote this to justify putting her alone.”
Lena looked at the wording.
“It may help explain their story. We still need to establish who created each document.”
Daniel examined the transaction details.
Harbor Home Support had received all four payments.
The business was registered to Marlene.
Everett had signed as a contact.
There was no mystery about where the money had first landed.
Only what happened afterward.
Gabriel called his father.
“You told me there were more.”
“Yes.”
“Did you sign my name?”
“No.”
“Did you know someone had?”
A long pause.
“Yes.”
Gabriel stared at the silver music box on the counter.
“Did you know Amelia was losing her school support?”
“Your mother said it wasn’t helping.”
“Did you ask Amelia?”
Everett said nothing.
Nobody had asked Amelia anything.
They had described her.
Managed her.
Billed for her.
But nobody had listened.
That afternoon, Gabriel met with a child therapist named Dr. Warren.
He explained what he had found without bringing Amelia into the room.
“I want her to tell me everything.”
“I understand,” Dr. Warren said. “But she needs to discover she can tell you something small without having to manage your reaction.”
“I’m trying.”
“Let her see that.”
At home, Amelia accidentally broke a cereal bowl.
Gabriel heard the crash.
When he reached the kitchen, she was already on her knees.
“I’ll clean it.”
“Stay still. There’s glass.”
“I’m sorry.”
He lifted her carefully away from the shards.
Then he got the broom.
Amelia watched him sweep.
“You’re not yelling.”
“No.”
“Even though it was your good bowl?”
“Even then.”
She thought about that.
Then she asked, “Can I tell you something bad?”
Gabriel set the broom against the wall.
“You can tell me anything.”
May you like
Amelia stared at the broken pieces.
“Grandma said Mom died because taking care of me wore her out.”
