I didn’t.
“I was worried about you.”
“So you stole the glasses I needed to drive?”
“You shouldn’t have been driving anyway!”
“Then why did you tell me to use the old pair?”
Silence.
I leaned toward her. “Why were you preparing guardianship papers while I was unconscious?”
“Because somebody had to think about Walter!”
“I was alive.”
“You were in a coma.”
“For eleven days, Lisa. Not eleven years.”
Her jaw tightened.
“And why did you want him four years ago?”
“He’s my nephew.”
“Try again.”
“What do you want me to say?”
“The truth.”
“I loved my brother.”
“So did I.”
“He trusted me.”
That sentence caught my attention. “Did he?”
Lisa looked away.
I put the folder on the table.
She saw the attorney’s letterhead, and her expression shifted.
“Recognize it?”
She said nothing.
“You knew what Daniel had arranged, didn’t you?”
Her eyes fell to the folder.
That was enough.
I opened it.
“When your brother died, he left a trust for Walter.”
Lisa closed her eyes.
Finally, the missing piece from the last four years fell into place.
“Daniel told you about the trust.”
She looked away.
“Didn’t he?”
“Shortly before he died.”
“But he never told me.”
“Apparently not.”
“And you knew whoever cared for Walter could request money for his expenses.”
“With oversight.”
“And that’s why you wanted guardianship.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“Then make it complicated.”
“I needed money, Mom.”
She began crying.
“For what?”
“My business was falling apart.” She wiped her face. “Before Daniel died, he told me about Walter’s trust. I’d already asked you for help, and you said no.”
“So?”
Her voice cracked. “So I thought the trust could save my business.”
I stared at her.
“And all you needed was Walter.”
She sobbed harder. “I was desperate. I wasn’t going to steal it!”
“What were you going to do?”
“Manage it.”
“For yourself?”
“I would’ve put it back.”
I gave a short laugh because I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.
“Of course.”
“He’s nine! What does a nine-year-old need that kind of money for?” she snapped. “It was just sitting there!”
“It’s his.”
“I know that!”
“Apparently you don’t.”
Lisa fell silent.
I let the words sit between us.
But her confession still wasn’t finished.
“And now?”
She said nothing.
