Chapter 5 - What Diane Left Behind
That night, I opened the old wooden box where I kept Diane's belongings.
I hadn't touched it in years.
Her wedding ring.
Photographs.
A dried flower.
Her handwriting.
A small silver necklace.
And one envelope.
I had forgotten about it.
The envelope was addressed to me.
My hands trembled as I opened it.
Inside was a letter dated three months before Diane died.
Oscar,
If you're reading this, I'm probably gone or too weak to explain everything myself.
I stopped.
Jared stood behind me.
"Do you want me to leave?"
"No."
I continued.
I know you don't want to talk about money. You've always hated asking anyone for help. But I need you to know that I arranged something for you.
My breathing stopped.
The attorney told me the settlement should protect you and Jared. I don't want my illness to destroy everything we've built.
I looked at Jared.
He was crying.
I continued.
There is an account that will be transferred after the case closes. Please do not let anyone convince you to sign away control of it.
My hands began shaking.
The next line was underlined.
Especially not someone who says they're helping you.
I looked up.
Jared whispered:
"Mom knew."
"She suspected something."
"Who?"
I stared at the letter.
"I don't know."
At the bottom was an attorney's name.
Eleanor Grant.
I recognized it immediately.
She had represented Diane.
I searched my old phone records.
The number was gone.
But the name remained in an old address book.
I called the number.
A woman answered.
"Grant Law."
"Is Eleanor Grant still there?"
A pause.
"Who is calling?"
"Oscar Blake."
Silence.
Then:
"Mr. Blake?"
"Yes."
Her voice softened.
"This is Eleanor."
My heart stopped.
"Ms. Grant."
"I've been waiting for you to call."
I closed my eyes.
"Why?"
"Because I couldn't understand why you never contacted me."
"I thought the case was settled."
"It was."
"How much?"
She hesitated.
"Mr. Blake, are you alone?"
"My son is here."
"Good."
Her voice became serious.
"Your wife left approximately $1.2 million in a protected settlement."
Jared whispered, "Oh my God."
"Where is it?" I asked.
"I transferred the funds into a trust account."
"Whose trust?"
"Yours."
I felt something crack inside me.
"Mine?"
"Yes."
"Who controlled it?"
"You did."
"Then how did Lauren access it?"
Eleanor was silent.
"She couldn't."
I looked at Jared.
"What?"
"Mr. Blake," Eleanor said, "you never authorized Lauren to control that trust."
Jared's face changed.
"Then what did she control?"
"I don't know."
"But she moved money."
"From where?"
I suddenly understood.
"The family trust."
"Yes."
"Was it connected to Diane's settlement?"
"No."
I felt a strange mixture of relief and anger.
"So the $1.2 million is still safe?"
Another pause.
"Mr. Blake..."
"What?"
"I checked the account after I heard your name."
My heart sank.
"What did you find?"
"Nothing."
The room went silent.
"What do you mean?"
"The trust was emptied eight years ago."
Jared sat down.
"By whom?"
Eleanor answered:
"Someone using a power of attorney bearing your signature."
I stared at the floor.
"I never signed one."
"I know."
"Then who did?"
Eleanor whispered:
"That's what I've been trying to determine."
I looked at Diane's letter again.
The sentence suddenly seemed different.
Especially not someone who says they're helping you.
I asked Eleanor one final question.
"Who witnessed the power of attorney?"
She read from the file.
Then she said:
"Lauren Blake."
The phone slipped from my hand.
Jared caught it.
"Dad?"
I looked at him.
For the first time since this began, I wasn't thinking about money.
May you like
I was thinking about my wife.
And about the possibility that someone had been stealing from our family since before Diane had even been buried.
