Chapter 11 - SHE KNEW
I stared at the page.
My hands did not shake.
I almost wished they had.
Shaking would have felt human.
Instead I felt empty.
“She knew.”
Mia looked confused.
“Knew what?”
Janet answered carefully.
“That Mrs. Reed controlled the company.”
“When?”
I asked.
“When was this printed?”
Janet checked the footer.
“Four days before the funeral.”
Arthur was still alive then.
Barely.
Hospital room.
Morphine.
Monitors.
Me beside his bed.
And Brittany was printing corporate ownership charts.
“Why?”
Nobody answered.
I looked at Janet.
“Was she authorized to access this?”
“No.”
“Who was?”
“Darren.”
That was enough.
I stood.
“I need air.”
Janet followed me into the hallway.
“Margaret.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not.”
“I’m functioning.”
“That’s different.”
I almost laughed.
Arthur used to say the same thing.
I leaned against the wall.
“She humiliated me knowing who I was.”
“Possibly.”
“Don’t lawyer me.”
“I’m protecting the investigation.”
“She had the chart.”
“Yes.”
“Why would she mock me if she knew?”
Janet crossed her arms.
“That’s not for me to guess.”
I already had guesses.
Maybe she thought I wouldn’t use my position.
Maybe she wanted to provoke me.
Maybe she was trying to make herself look superior in front of her friends.
Or maybe the humiliation had never been about clothes.
Maybe it had been anger.
Resentment.
A test.
I called Ethan.
“Come over tonight.”
“What happened?”
“Just come.”
He arrived at seven.
Brittany came with him.
I hadn’t invited her.
She walked into my living room wearing no makeup.
She looked exhausted.
I did not feel sorry for her.
Not yet.
“Sit.”
They sat.
I placed the photocopy on the coffee table.
Brittany froze.
Ethan picked it up.
“What is this?”
I watched Brittany.
“Ask your wife.”
He turned.
“Britt?”
She said nothing.
“Where did you get this?”
Still nothing.
Ethan’s face changed.
“You knew?”
Brittany looked at me.
“Yes.”
“For how long?”
“About a week.”
“That’s a lie.”
I tapped the print date.
“Before Arthur died.”
She swallowed.
Ethan stared at her.
“You told me you only knew Dad had some shares.”
“I did.”
“No, you knew Mom owned the company.”
“I found out later.”
“And didn’t tell me?”
“You didn’t tell me everything either.”
He stood.
“What does that mean?”
She stood too.
“You knew your family had money.”
“Not like this.”
“You knew enough.”
“What does that have to do with you humiliating my mother at Dad’s funeral?”
Her face twisted.
“That wasn’t about the dress.”
Finally.
The truth opened a door.
I leaned forward.
“What was it about?”
Brittany’s eyes filled.
“Your husband.”
The room went silent.
“What about Arthur?”
She looked at Ethan.
Then me.
“He told Darren he was going to fire him.”
My stomach dropped.
“When?”
“The week before he died.”
“How do you know?”
“Darren told me.”
“Why would Darren tell you?”
She looked away.
Ethan whispered,
“Brittany.”
She closed her eyes.
“Because I had been helping him.”
“With the returns?”
She nodded.
Ethan backed away.
“Oh my God.”
“I didn’t steal anything.”
“You helped.”
“I processed them.”
“Why?”
“He told me they were moving credits between VIP accounts.”
“You believed him?”
“At first.”
“And later?”
She cried.
“I knew it was wrong.”
“Then why continue?”
Her answer came out almost inaudible.
“Because he promised me the assistant manager job.”
Ethan stared at her.
“You risked your job for a fake promotion?”
“You don’t understand.”
“Then explain it.”
“I was tired of being nobody.”
That sentence landed harder than I expected.
Brittany wiped her face angrily.
“I worked around women who spent more on a purse than my mother made in three months.”
Her voice shook.
“I watched them walk in and get treated like royalty. I wanted that life.”
“So you treated poor-looking people like dirt?”
“No.”
“Yes.”
She looked at me.
“You don’t get it.”
My anger finally broke through.
“I understand it better than you think.”
She laughed bitterly.
“No. You were rich.”
“I was poor until I was thirty-two.”
Silence.
“My mother cleaned offices at night.”
Brittany blinked.
“My father fixed elevators.”
She stared at me.
“I wore other people’s clothes through high school.”
“You never told us.”
“You never asked.”
Her face collapsed slightly.
But I wasn’t done.
“So no, Brittany. Poverty did not make you cruel.”
I pointed toward the ownership chart.
“Fear did not make you cruel.”
My voice hardened.
“Ambition did not make you cruel.”
She whispered,
“What did?”
“You made choices.”
Ethan sat down slowly.
Then asked the question I had almost forgotten.
“What does Dad have to do with this?”
Brittany looked at him.
“Arthur found the returns.”
“How?”
“I don’t know.”
“What did he do?”
“He confronted Darren.”
“When?”
“The Friday before he went into the hospital.”
I stood.
“What did Darren say?”
Brittany looked terrified.
“He said Arthur was going to destroy everything.”
“And then?”
She swallowed.
“He said he had to stop him.”
Every hair on my arms rose.
“What does that mean?”
“I don’t know.”
“Brittany.”
“I swear.”
She looked directly at me.
“But two days later…”
May you like
Her voice broke.
“Arthur collapsed.”
