Chapter 13 - The One Thing Mason Hadn't Told Me

Rachel’s anger was useful.

Mine was less orderly.

For the next day, lawyers built timelines across three conference tables.

Loan documents on one.

Corporate records on another.

Old ledgers on the third.

Every lie became a date.

Every date became a connection.

By Saturday evening, the outline was clear.

Ethan had inherited no legal debt from his father.

He had nevertheless paid Voss for years.

When he ran out of cash, he borrowed.

When he could not repay the loans, he created Laurel Ridge.

When a legitimate project could not close quickly enough, he authorized shortcuts.

Then fraud.

Voss encouraged every step.

Rachel helped build the company while believing my consent would come later.

Russell provided stolen corporate material.

Marjorie forged notarizations.

Everybody had a different reason.

The result was the same.

My name became an asset.

At eight, Daniel left to prepare for court.

Rachel went upstairs.

I found Mason alone in the bar.

He had whiskey in front of him but had barely touched it.

“You loaned Ethan eight hundred thousand dollars.”

“Yes.”

“How much else?”

His gaze lifted.

“What?”

“How many times did you rescue him?”

A pause.

“Three.”

My anger arrived so fast I almost laughed.

“How much?”

“About two million total.”

“You knew he had a serious problem.”

“Yes.”

“And you never told me.”

“No.”

“Why?”

“He said the debts were business losses.”

“You believed him three times?”

“The first time.”

The answer made me angrier.

“What about the second?”

“I thought he was embarrassed.”

“The third?”

“I knew he was lying about something.”

I folded my arms.

“And still you said nothing to me.”

Mason’s expression tightened.

“It wasn’t my place.”

“He was going to marry me.”

“I know.”

“You were his best man.”

“I know.”

“You supposedly cared about me.”

His eyes hardened.

“That is exactly why I stayed out of your relationship.”

“That is cowardly.”

“Yes.”

The immediate agreement stopped me.

He looked down at the glass.

“I told myself I was respecting boundaries. Some of that was true. Some of it was easier than admitting I saw things I didn’t want to see.”

“Like what?”

“That Ethan always needed a person to solve the consequences.”

“You.”

“Me. His mother. Rachel. You.”

I sat across from him.

“You could have warned me.”

“I should have.”

“Before the wedding weekend.”

“Yes.”

“Before Mason-the-savior showed up with photographs.”

His jaw flexed.

“I’m not trying to be your savior.”

“Good. I don’t need one.”

“I know.”

We sat in silence.

I wanted him to defend himself so I could keep being angry.

He refused to make it easy.

“There’s something else,” he said.

I laughed without humor.

“Of course there is.”

“Four years ago, after Ethan asked for the first loan, I had him investigated.”

I stared.

“Investigated?”

“Financially.”

“Without telling him?”

“Yes.”

“Without telling me?”

“Yes.”

“What did you find?”

“Gambling.”

My stomach dropped.

“Casinos?”

“Sports books. Online accounts. High-risk options trading. Not enough to explain everything, but enough to concern me.”

“Did he stop?”

“For a while.”

“You knew he gambled and never told me.”

“He said he was in treatment.”

“Was he?”

“Yes. For six months.”

I stood.

“I need to leave.”

“Claire.”

“No.”

He remained seated.

That helped.

“If you follow me, I will never speak to you again.”

“I won’t.”

I walked out.

For the first time since the rehearsal dinner, I wanted nothing from Mason.

No evidence.

No protection.

No calm voice beside me.

Just distance.

I drove to my grandmother’s farmhouse.

The agents had checked it after the threatening photograph. Nothing had been disturbed.

The house smelled like cedar and dust.

I sat on the kitchen floor beneath the window where my grandmother used to shell peas.

My entire relationship with Ethan rearranged itself.

The canceled trips because he had “work.”

The nights he stared at sports scores.

The sudden arguments about money when we had enough.

I had thought privacy meant trust.

Sometimes privacy was simply where secrets grew.

My phone buzzed.

Hannah.

Then my mother.

Then Daniel.

I ignored all three.

At 10:22, headlights swept across the front windows.

I froze.

A car stopped outside.

I reached for the fireplace poker because apparently that was who I had become.

Someone knocked.

Three slow knocks.

“Claire.”

Ethan.

I did not open the door.

“What do you want?”

“I need to give you something.”

“Give it to Daniel.”

“I can’t.”

“Then leave.”

He leaned against the other side of the door.

“I know you found Dad’s ledger.”

My grip tightened.

“How?”

“Voss told me.”

“When?”

“An hour ago.”

Cold moved through me.

“You’re still talking to him.”

“He called me.”

“And you answered.”

“I’m trying to keep him from doing something worse.”

“You are not good at that.”

Silence.

Then Ethan said, “He knows where you are.”

I stopped breathing.

“What?”

“I didn’t tell him.”

“How does he know?”

“I don’t know.”

I looked toward the dark windows.

“Leave.”

“Claire, listen to me. There is a second ledger.”

My hand tightened around the poker.

“What second ledger?”

“The one my father hid before he died.”

“Where?”

“That’s what Voss wants.”

“And you know?”

A pause.

“Yes.”

“Where is it?”

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Ethan’s voice dropped.

“Inside your grandmother’s house.”