Chapter 4: The Boy Who Was Taught to Lie
For several seconds, I couldn't speak.
The school counselor remained on the line, waiting for an answer.
I looked at Margaret's letter in my hand. Then I looked at Claire, who had gone completely pale.
"Mrs. Carter," I finally managed, "did Ethan tell you why his father wanted him to practice signing my name?""
"Yes, sir. He said his father told him it was a game.""
"A game?""
"Apparently, Daniel placed several pieces of paper in front of him and asked him to copy your signature. Ethan said he made mistakes, so his father became angry.""
My stomach tightened.
"Did Ethan say what the papers were?""
"He mentioned a document with your name and something about the house.""
I closed my eyes.
"Is Ethan still there?""
"Yes. He's in my office. He asked us not to call his parents because he was afraid his father would be angry.""
"Please don't send him home with anyone until I arrive. I'm his grandfather, and I'll come immediately.""
"Of course. We'll follow our safeguarding procedures.""
I ended the call.
Claire was already reaching for her handbag.
"We're going.""
I nodded.
But before we left, I took another look at Margaret's photograph.
The unidentified man stood between Daniel and Patricia.
His face was partly obscured, but his watch was unmistakable.
A silver watch with a black leather strap and a small scratch near the twelve.
I had seen it at dinner the previous evening.
It belonged to Richard Cole.
Our family accountant.
Richard had handled our taxes for twenty-six years. He had helped Daniel when his first business collapsed. He had even prepared the financial documents for Margaret's estate.
I had trusted him with every dollar I owned.
Apparently, he had been helping my son take those dollars away.
"Claire," I said, "call Samuel Reed. Tell him we need to see him today.""
She nodded.
"What's happened?""
"Richard Cole is involved.""
Her eyes widened.
"Are you sure?""
I showed her the photograph.
She stared at it.
"Oh, my God.""
I put Margaret's letter inside my jacket.
Then we left the bank.
The school was twenty minutes away.
It felt like two hours.
When we arrived, Mrs. Carter was waiting near the reception desk.
"Mr. Bennett?""
"Where is he?""
"He's in my office.""
She led us down a quiet corridor.
Ethan was sitting in a small chair beside a bookshelf. His backpack rested on the floor. His hands were folded tightly in his lap.
When he saw me, he stood immediately.
"Grandpa!""
I opened my arms.
He ran into them.
I held him longer than I intended.
His little shoulders were trembling.
"Hey, buddy," I whispered.
"What's going on?""
He buried his face against my coat.
"I'm sorry.""
I pulled back.
"What are you sorry for?""
"Dad said I wasn't supposed to tell anybody.""
I crouched in front of him.
"Listen to me. You never have to keep a secret that makes you feel scared.""
He looked at Claire.
Then back at me.
"Is Dad going to jail?""
The question nearly broke my heart.
"I don't know, Ethan. But whatever happens, it's not your fault.""
He nodded.
Mrs. Carter offered us a glass of water.
"Would you like to tell your grandfather what you told me?""
Ethan looked down.
Then he reached into his backpack and removed a folded sheet of paper.
"I brought this.""
I took it.
It was a photocopy of a document.
At the top, I could read the words:
*PROPERTY TRANSFER AUTHORIZATION.*
Below that was my full name.
And underneath it was a signature.
My signature.
Or something designed to look like it.
I examined it carefully.
The first letter was too large. The final stroke was too short.
I had never signed that document.
"Where did you get this?"" I asked.
"From Dad's office.""
"Why did you take it?""
Ethan twisted his sleeve.
"Because Dad told Mom I had to learn your signature before the weekend.""
I looked at Claire.
She was staring at the paper.
"What weekend?"" she asked.
Ethan shrugged.
"Dad said some important people were coming to Grandpa's house.""
I felt a cold sensation move through my chest.
"Did he say who?""
"Mr. Cole.""
Richard.
"And someone from the bank.""
I looked at the counselor.
"Did Ethan tell you anything else?""
She nodded.
"He said his father showed him several photographs of your handwriting and asked him to copy them. He also said his father told him that if he did well, they would buy him a new gaming console.""
I looked at my grandson.
"Ethan, did you sign anything?""
He shook his head quickly.
"No, Grandpa. I didn't.""
"Did your father get angry?""
His lower lip trembled.
"He said I was making everything difficult.""
Claire knelt beside him.
"Sweetheart, you did the right thing.""
Ethan looked at her.
"Will Dad hate me?""
Claire's eyes filled with tears.
"No, baby. You're a good boy. You haven't done anything wrong.""
I put the photocopy inside my jacket.
Then I thanked Mrs. Carter and asked her to document everything Ethan had told her.
We arranged for him to stay with Claire while the adults sorted out the situation, following the school's safeguarding guidance.
As we walked toward the car, Ethan suddenly grabbed my hand.
"Grandpa?""
"Yes?""
"Can I ask you something?""
"Anything.""
"Did Grandma know Dad was doing bad things?""
I stopped.
The question was too close to the truth Margaret had left behind.
"I think your grandmother was worried about something.""
"Then why didn't she stop him?""
I looked down at his small face.
"Sometimes people we love make choices we can't control.""
He considered that.
"Is that why Grandma left you the letter?""
I froze.
"What letter?""
"The one in her room.""
Claire turned toward him.
"Ethan, what do you mean?""
He looked frightened again.
"I saw Dad reading it. Before he took it.""
"When?"" I asked.
"Last Tuesday.""
My pulse quickened.
"Did you see where he put it?""
Ethan nodded.
"He put it inside his briefcase. Then Mom told him to burn it.""
Claire covered her mouth.
"Did he?""
"I don't know. But I heard Mom say the letter couldn't exist anymore.""
I knelt again.
"Buddy, there's something I need you to remember. If you see something that makes you uncomfortable, you can always tell me.""
He nodded.
Then he whispered something else.
"Grandpa, Dad said Grandma wasn't really sick.""
I stared at him.
"What?""
"He said she knew too much.""
The world seemed to stop.
Claire grabbed my arm.
"Ethan, what exactly did you hear?""
He looked toward the parking lot.
"Dad was talking to Mr. Cole on the phone. He said Grandma had become a problem before they could finish everything.""
I felt my knees weaken.
Margaret's illness had progressed rapidly during the final months of her life.
She had been diagnosed with an aggressive condition. Her doctors had told us there was little they could do beyond managing her symptoms.
I had never questioned the diagnosis.
Why would I?
But now my grandson was telling me that Daniel had spoken about his mother's death as though it had been an inconvenience.
I took a slow breath.
"Did your father say anything else?""
Ethan shook his head.
"Only that Grandma should never have found the account.""
"What account?""
"I don't know.""
I hugged him.
Then I stood and looked at Claire.
"We need Samuel.""
She nodded.
As we reached the car, my phone vibrated.
A message from Daniel appeared.
Dad, I know Claire has been filling your head with nonsense. We need to talk before you make a terrible mistake.
Another message followed.
Richard and Patricia are coming to your house Saturday. Please don't embarrass yourself in front of everyone.
I checked the calendar.
Saturday was two days away.
Then a third message arrived.
And Dad, don't involve Ethan. He has already caused enough trouble.
I stared at the screen.
My son had just made one thing very clear.
He knew Ethan had talked.
And he was frightened of what the boy might reveal.
I put the phone away.
Then I turned to Claire.
"Call Samuel again.""
"Why?""
May you like
I looked at the school building.
"Because we're not waiting until Saturday.""
