Chapter 2 - THE MIDNIGHT CALLBy nine o'clock that evening, the adrenaline had faded, leaving behind a cold, sharp clarity. I sat at my kitchen table with my laptop open, reviewing the encrypted logs Walter Hobbs had sent over regarding the trust.
My phone rang. The screen displayed my father’s cell number.
I hesitated for a fraction of a second before swiping to answer. "Dad?"
"Christine," his voice sounded tired, older than his sixty-ine years. There was a strange background noise—the muffled sound of a television playing quietly, and the distinct, tense silence of a house walking on eggshells. "Are you awake?"
"I am. Is everything alright?"
"Vanessa told me something tonight," he said slowly, choosing his words with agonizing care. "She said... she said you had a visit from an attorney today. She mentioned something about an inheritance. Christine, is there something your grandfather left behind that I should have known about?"
My heart gave a brief, heavy thud, but my voice remained steady. "Dad, Grandfather left me a trust years ago. It was designated specifically for my education and career stability. It has nothing to do with you or your household."
"She said it was millions, Chris," my father whispered, lowering his voice as if someone might be listening from the hallway. "She said it was family money that belonged to the estate, and that you cut me out of it."
"Dad, did you ever ask me for money?" I asked quietly.
"Of course not! You know I didn't."
"Did you ever want or need my grandfather’s money while you were raising me, or after Mom passed away?"
"That’s not the point," he sighed, though I could hear the exhaustion cracking his defense. "Vanessa is just... she’s worried about our future security. She reads these articles about elder care costs and trusts, and she thinks—"
"Dad, listen to me very carefully," I interrupted, cutting through his excuses. "Vanessa didn't send an attorney here today because she’s worried about your future security. She sent him because she wants total control over every asset connected to the Parker name. She dismissed your financial adviser a month ago. She replaced the furniture in the house you shared with Mom. And now she’s trying to legally pillage anything she thinks she can claim."
There was a long, suffocating silence on the line.
"She loves me, Christine," my father said defensively, though his voice lacked conviction. "She’s just trying to protect us."
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"If she loved you, she wouldn't be sneaking behind your back with estate lawyers to steal your daughter's inheritance," I said coldly. "Think about that before you talk to her tomorrow."
I hung up before he could answer.
