“If things were different.” She turned to her mother. “Ifyouwere different, you would have called me two weeks ago and I could have told you about a man I met. A man I fell in love with. I would have told you that he will probably break my heart, and you would have told me to drop him immediately.” She smiled. “I wouldn’t have listened to you of course but it would have been enough to know you cared. That you’d be there for me. That you’d pick up the pieces and put me back together when it ended.”
“Faith, I don’t understand where this is going.”
Of course, she didn’t.
“The man I love doesn’t love me and whatever we had is over. A part of me is glad he doesn’t know the real me because I’m so ashamed of where I come from.”
Pink dots appeared in her mother’s otherwise alabaster complexion. Her eyes narrowed, and her lips thinned.
There she was. The real Nella Winters-Brooks. The mother who didn’t care about anyone but herself.
“You ungrateful little bitch. Everything I did was for you. Forus. You lived a life of privilege. A life anyone would want if they could have it.”
Her mother was wrong on so many levels, but Faith realized she didn’t care enough point them out. She realized she’d come to San Francisco to close this chapter of her life.
“Why did you reach out? It’s been two weeks,” she asked, watching Nella closely.
Her mother composed herself. It only took seconds, and if this was a different situation, Faith might have been impressed.
“I need you to initial and sign some documents.”
“What kind of documents?”
“They’re all regarding your trust. There are some gray areas that need to be resolved. We need them painted black so to speak.” Before she could reply, Nella crossed the room and opened the door, allowing Bradford and Jackson back inside.
She was silent as the men returned to their respective seats and shuffled the papers in front of them. Mr. Jackson pointed out the areas that needed a signature while Bradford explained what each of them meant. When the men were done speaking, Faith stared at the papers in front of her, then glanced around the room before settling on her mother.
“If I understand correctly, you’re asking me to substantiate the date that the trust was created.”
Her mother said nothing. Mr. Jackson nodded. “Correct.”
“And according to these documents the trust was created on the day that Mom and Michael married.”
A tic appeared beside her mother’s right eye. Again, Mr. Jackson nodded, though his answer was subdued. “Yes.”
“I’m going to assume if that date stands then the government has no claim on the funds in that account.”
The tic became more pronounced.
“The government cannot touch a trust.” Mr. Bradford spoke up, then glanced at her mother before handing Faith a pen.
“I think they can if they feel the trust was padded with monies illegally obtained. Say, by a couple defrauding thousands of employees of their retirement funds.” She smiled at the financial advisor, who didn’t have the balls to look her in the eye.
“Just sign the papers, Faith.” Her mother’s tone was sharp, the look on her face ugly.
Bradford handed her a pen, which she set down on top of the papers.
“I attempted to sign into the account this morning and my credentials didn’t work. I’d like to see the balance of the trust.” She eyed Mr. Jackson. “Now.”
A sheen of sweat shone from the top of his bald head. “I didn’t bring any statements.” He darted a look at her mother.
“You have a laptop,” Faith pointed out. “Open up the account so that I can see what kind of money we’re talking about.”
After a few tense moments, her mother directed him to do what Faith had asked, and when he turned the laptop around so that she could see the screen, her heart sank. The last time she’d accessed the account it had been worth about ten million dollars. The balance today was sitting at just over one hundred million.
The disappointment and hurt hit hard, and she wasn’t sure she could hide it.
Faith shook her head and pushed the papers away. “The dates are wrong. That trust was initiated when I turned sixteen. I remember it because the two of you,” she pointed at the men, “interrupted my birthday party and I had to dry off from the pool and come into the house to sign it.” She stepped away from the table before facing her mother once more. “I won’t sign. Fraud is your game, not mine.”
