Chapter 4 - The Divided House
By afternoon, the boundaries of the Whitman Manor had been redrawn. The grand estate, once a symbol of unified family pride, was now a house divided by hostility and invisible borders.
Evan spent the day trying to talk to me, but I kept my door locked. I needed time to think. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw him standing in that doorway, pale and silent, letting his father tear my life apart. He had chosen his family’s approval over his wife’s dignity, and that was a wound that wouldn't heal easily.
Around 4:00 PM, I decided to walk the grounds. I needed fresh air. As I walked down the long corridor toward the back exit, I passed the entrance to the west wing. The door was slightly ajar, and I heard Linda’s voice raised in a frantic, sharp pitch.
"We can't let her find the offshore accounts, Richard! If she has full access to the estate records, she’ll see the transfers from the Whitman Holdings charity fund!"
I stopped in my tracks, my breath catching in my throat. I pressed myself against the wall, listening intently.
"Shut up, Linda!" Richard snapped back. "The girl is stupid. She thinks she’s a queen because she got a piece of property. She doesn’t know anything about forensic accounting. I’ve already moved the primary ledgers to the safe house downtown."
"But what about Evan?" Linda asked, her voice dropping to a panicked whisper. "What if he cracks? He’s weak, Richard. He’s in love with her. If she presses him, he might tell her about the real reason we needed him to marry someone quickly."
"Evan knows what’s at stake," Richard growled. "If we go down, he goes down with us. He’ll keep his mouth shut."
My heart pounded violently against my ribs. Offshore accounts? Charity funds? A real reason for a quick marriage?
When Evan and I had met, our romance had been a whirlwind. He had proposed after only six months of dating, insisting that he couldn't live without me. I had thought it was true love. Now, hearing this, a sick feeling settled deep in my stomach. Had our entire relationship been a setup? Was I chosen not just by his grandmother, but by his parents for some sinister purpose?
I backed away from the door slowly, making no sound. I needed to find out what was in those ledgers. If Richard had moved them to a safe house downtown, it meant there was something in this house he desperately wanted to hide—something he hadn't managed to clear out yet.
I ran back to the library and found Margaret, who was packing up her briefcase.
"Margaret," I said, my voice urgent. "Can you pull the financial records of Whitman Holdings for the last five years? Specifically, any charitable foundations associated with the family."
Margaret looked up, her expression turning serious. "Clara, did you discover something?"
"I think Richard and Linda are hiding something massive," I said, recounting the conversation I had just overheard. "They mentioned offshore accounts and a 'real reason' they needed Evan to marry quickly."
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Margaret’s face darkened. "Clara, Clara Whitman—the grandmother—always suspected Richard was embezzling from the family trust, but she never had proof. If Richard used the family name to launder money, and you now own the primary estate, you could be held liable if the federal authorities get involved."
"Then we need to find that proof before they destroy it," I said, determination replacing my fear. "I’m not going to let them ruin my life twice."
