The word people use when they cannot bear to say gambling, speculation or failure.
Vanessa looked at me.
“Richard discovered everything seven months before he died. He knew creditors were coming.”
I could barely speak.
“So he agreed to sell my house?”
“No.”
She smiled.
“He offered us money to stay away from it.”
The courtroom seemed to shrink.
“He created a trust,” Vanessa continued. “He told me if Daniel left your assets alone, the trust would settle Daniel’s debts after Richard died.”
I looked at my son.
“You knew?”
Daniel shook his head desperately.
“No.”
Vanessa said, “Richard didn’t trust you enough to tell you.”
She enjoyed every word.
“That trust was supposed to save your precious son.”
Judge Mercer interrupted.
“What does this have to do with the guardianship petition?”
Vanessa’s smile faded.
“Because Richard canceled it.”
I understood.
Finally.
I understood everything.
Richard had discovered something before he died.
Something that made him withdraw the protection.
“What happened?” I asked.
Vanessa didn’t answer.
Daniel turned toward her.
“What did you do?”
Nothing.
“Vanessa.”
Still nothing.
Then I remembered the desk.
The documents they had been desperate to remove.
Not deeds.
Not account statements.
