“That’s correct,” Wilson said.
I stared at the document. Twenty million dollars, going to an institution that had gladly taken my father’s money. They’d removed his name off the library he’d donated to after the accusations, but they certainly hadn’t given the money back to help victims. Not that I’d have expected that, but, still, I wasn’t thrilled with the idea of the university getting a further donation, especially one so large.
“So if I refuse,” I said slowly, “I’m essentially funding the Sean Hale legacy.”
“In broad terms, yes,” Wilson said. “Not to mention that your mother went to great trouble to set up the trusts. Her wishes were clear.”
Mara put her hand on my arm. “We’ll discuss it and get back to you, Mr. Wilson. Thanks for your patience.”
Wilson shrugged, but I could see he was taken aback. “I’ll be here for any questions.”
We got up to leave. Wilson stood as well. “There’s one more detail you should know. It was your mother who had the money when they were first married. Her father had left her a large inheritance. From my understanding, it was her fortune that funded your father’s early ventures into the film industry. Obviously, he was very successful. Whatever she brought into the marriage grew substantially because of your father’s production company. But he wouldn’t have been able to do what he did without her money to begin it all.”
Mara and I both stared at him for a moment. We’d had no idea.
“She never said anything to us about that,” Mara said.
“You were both young when she died,” Wilson said.
“Are you certain?” I asked.
“My father was your grandfather’s attorney,” Wilson said. “I’m quite certain.”
11
ESME
The second morning after they’d let Madison come home, we headed in to the hospital for her follow-up appointment at the orthopedic clinic. They wanted to take X-rays to check her pins and make sure everything was healing properly. We arrived a few minutes early to get the X-rays and then sat in the lobby waiting to see the doctor. Madison had woken feeling good, with considerably less pain than the night before. I’d only given her a mild pain reliever instead of the one they sent us home with.
Next to me, Madison turned pages of an early reader book she’d found on the shelf, the index finger of her good hand tracing the words.
I scrolled through my phone without really seeing it. I’d hoped for a text from Grady but so far I hadn’t heard from him. I tried to imagine what it was like for him, confronting the past he’d run from, but came up flat. It was all too much to fathom. I couldn’t quite wrap my head around this new Grady. Had I ever known the real man or was it all a façade? Picturing Grady in a suit, welcoming clients into some fancy office was nearly impossible. Instead, I saw him how I knew him, dressed in a hoodie and board shorts, salt water drying in his hair.
I glanced at the clock. He’d already been to the attorney meeting if I remembered correctly. What had he learned? Had his father left him anything? If so, would Grady accept it?
“Mom, I’m hungry,” Madison said.
I reached into my bag and pulled out a Ziploc bag with nuts and dried fruit. “Here, eat these. I’ll make you some real lunch when we get home later.”
“Thanks, Mommy.” Madison took the bag from me and reached in for a handful.
“Nuts too, not just the fruit,” I said.
“Okay.”
The door opened, and I hoped it was our turn, but the nurse called another name. We kept waiting.
I texted my friends’ group chat.
Esme
At the hospital with Madison. Follow-up for her arm. Prayers appreciated!
Gillian
Will be praying. Is she still in pain?
Esme
