Dad’s face went completely blank.
Mom grabbed his arm.
“Richard.”
He pulled away.
“No.”
Mr. Grant closed the folder.
“That notice was prepared twelve years ago.”
Dad stared at him.
“You’ve been waiting?”
“No.”
Mr. Grant’s voice was calm.
“I’ve been hoping I would never need to use it.”
Nobody spoke.
Then Aunt Monica started crying.
Not because of Grandma.
Because she finally understood what this meant for her.
“Am I on it?”
Mr. Grant looked at her.
“You are a beneficiary.”
She covered her mouth.
“If I’m removed…”
“Your inheritance would be redistributed according to the trust.”
“To whom?”
Mr. Grant looked at me.
I felt my stomach drop.
“That is between Hazel and the trustee.”
Dad suddenly laughed.
It wasn’t a happy laugh.
It was bitter.
“You think this is going to work?”
Mr. Grant didn’t respond.
Dad stepped closer.
“You think you can destroy my company because of one stupid vacation?”
“No.”
Mr. Grant looked him directly in the eye.
“This isn’t about the vacation.”
He placed one final document on the suitcase.
“The vacation is simply the first time Hazel’s family made the mistake of leaving evidence in writing.”
