Chapter 9 - THE RETURN SCHEME
Outside counsel took over by noon.
That was the right decision.
It also meant I had to wait.
I hated waiting.
Arthur had always been better at it.
“Patience isn’t doing nothing,” he used to say. “It’s refusing to ruin the answer before it arrives.”
I heard his voice all day.
By evening, Janet called.
“We need to be careful.”
“How bad?”
“We have suspicious transactions.”
“Fraud?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Not yet.”
“Correct.”
“What do you know?”
“Seven returns. Six customers.”
“Real customers?”
“Four are confirmed real. Two accounts may have been created internally.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means we are investigating.”
I wanted more.
She refused.
Good HR leaders should occasionally frustrate owners.
It means they are doing their jobs.
The next morning, Ethan arrived again.
This time, quieter.
“Can I come in?”
“Yes.”
He held his phone.
“Brittany’s gone.”
“What do you mean?”
“She packed a bag.”
“Where did she go?”
“Her sister’s.”
I nodded.
“She says you’re trying to destroy her.”
“I’m not involved in the investigation.”
“She doesn’t believe that.”
“That is not my problem.”
He sat.
“She says somebody is framing her.”
“Do you believe her?”
“I don’t know.”
That answer was progress.
Yesterday he would’ve said yes.
I made coffee.
Ethan stared at his hands.
“Did Dad ever regret giving me the money?”
“I don’t know.”
“You read his letter.”
“That letter was to me.”
“Please.”
His voice was small.
For a moment, I saw the boy who used to climb into my bed after nightmares.
Then I remembered Arthur’s sentence.
Too easily led by whoever he is most afraid to disappoint.
I sat across from him.
“He loved you.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“No.”
I took a breath.
“I think he regretted rescuing you so often.”
Ethan looked down.
“He thought I was weak.”
“He thought you avoided conflict.”
“Same thing.”
“No.”
“It feels like it.”
“Feelings are real. They are not always accurate.”
He looked at me.
“When did you become so cold?”
I almost laughed.
“I buried my husband five days ago.”
His face collapsed.
“I’m sorry.”
“No. You’re scared.”
“That too.”
“Then be scared.”
He blinked.
“What?”
“Sit with it.”
I leaned forward.
“Your father spent years protecting you from consequences. Maybe I did too.”
“That’s not fair.”
“Maybe not.”
He stood.
“I came here for help.”
“No. You came here for reassurance.”
His jaw tightened.
“And you won’t give it?”
“I’ll give you truth.”
He looked toward the door.
Then his phone rang.
Brittany.
He stared at the screen.
“Answer it.”
He did.
“Hey.”
Her voice was loud enough for me to hear.
“Is she there?”
Ethan looked at me.
“Yes.”
“Put me on speaker.”
He hesitated.
“Brittany—”
“Do it.”
He pressed speaker.
Her voice filled the kitchen.
“Margaret.”
“Yes.”
“You need to stop this.”
“I’m not running the investigation.”
“Bull.”
“Believe what you want.”
“They’re accusing me of stealing.”
“No one has said that to me.”
“They froze my employee accounts.”
“That is standard during an investigation.”
“You know too much for somebody who isn’t involved.”
“I know how my company operates.”
Silence.
Then Brittany laughed bitterly.
“There. Your company.”
“Yes.”
“You finally get to say it.”
“Say what?”
“That you’re better than everyone.”
I sighed.
“This conversation is over.”
“No.”
Her voice sharpened.
“You want truth? Fine.”
I stopped.
“Darren did the returns.”
Ethan looked at me.
Brittany continued.
“He told me what to process.”
“Why?”
“He said it was inventory correction.”
“You believed that?”
“At first.”
“At first?”
Another silence.
Then she said,
“I knew something was wrong after the third one.”
The room went still.
Ethan whispered,
“Brittany…”
She started crying.
Not dramatic.
Not loud.
“I didn’t take the money.”
I stared at the phone.
“But you knew?”
She whispered,
May you like
“Yes.”
And then the call disconnected.
