“This is ridiculous.”
Robert turned toward her.
“The searches were connected to an account registered through your real-estate office.”
She sat down.
Michael looked at his wife.
“You knew my aunt had money?”
Susan’s voice sharpened.
“I suspected.”
“And you never told me?”
“I was trying to protect us.”
“From what?”
“From being stupid.”
Her composure cracked.
“If your mother inherited that kind of money and then wasted it or gave it away, what happens later? Who takes care of her? You do. We do.”
There it was.
Not concern.
Ownership.
Michael looked at the letter again.
“What does this mean?”
Robert pointed to the second page.
Michael read aloud.
“If Janice is pressured regarding housing, competency, financial control, or transfer of assets during the six-month observation period, my attorney is authorized to disclose the attached memorandum.”
He stopped.
“What memorandum?”
Robert removed another document.
Susan whispered, “Don’t.”
Michael turned.
“Why do you keep saying that?”
Robert placed the page in front of him.
Michael read.
His expression changed slowly.
I finally asked, “What is it?”
Robert looked at me.
“Eleanor hired a private investigator three years ago.”
“Three years?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“She was concerned about Michael.”
Michael stared at him.
“About me?”
“About the people around you.”
Susan had gone completely still.
Robert continued.
“Eleanor met Susan twice before you became engaged.”
I remembered both occasions.
Thanksgiving.
A birthday dinner.
Eleanor had been polite but quieter than usual.
At the time, I assumed she simply did not know Susan well.
Robert looked at Michael.
“After the second meeting, Eleanor asked me to verify several statements Susan had made concerning family property and inheritance.”
Susan stood.
“This is insane.”
Robert did not argue with her.
“The investigator found that Susan had previously been engaged.”
Michael frowned.
“I know that.”
Robert looked at him.
“You know about one prior engagement.”
Susan’s hands dropped to her sides.
Michael slowly turned toward her.
“One?”
Robert glanced down at the report.
“There were two.”
Low whispers moved around the room.
Susan shook her head.
“That has nothing to do with this.”
“The first engagement ended normally,” Robert said. “The second did not.”
Michael’s voice became quieter.
“What happened?”
“The man was thirty-eight. His mother owned several rental properties.”
Something cold settled in my stomach.
Robert continued.
“During that engagement, Susan repeatedly encouraged him to convince his mother to sell her properties, move into senior housing, and place the proceeds under family management.”
I tightened my hand around my purse.
Michael stared at Susan.
“No.”
Susan stepped toward him.
“That family was a disaster.”
Robert continued.
“When the mother refused, the engagement ended within two months.”
Susan’s father stood.
“That’s enough.”
Robert turned his head.
“There is more.”
“Stop,” Susan said.
For the first time that night, her voice no longer carried confidence.
Robert remained calm.
“The investigator found emails.”
Susan closed her eyes.
“Between Susan and her mother.”
Susan’s mother stood again.
“Those were stolen.”
“They were provided legally during litigation involving the prior fiancé.”
Michael looked physically exhausted now.
“What did they say?”
Robert hesitated.
Then he handed Michael one final page.
Michael read.
His eyes moved line by line.
Then he lowered himself into the chair as though standing had suddenly become difficult.
I went to him.
“Michael?”
He passed me the page.
At the top was an email from Susan to her mother dated four years earlier.
The language was practical.
Almost businesslike.
One line had been highlighted.
If he gets control of the properties before we marry, we’ll be set. His mother is the only obstacle.
I read it twice.
Then I looked at Susan.
The woman who had mocked my apartment.
My old car.
My dress.
The framed photograph.
Suddenly, every question she had asked sounded different.
