Chapter 4 - The Sister’s Call
“You’re calling from Switzerland, I assume?” I asked, keeping my voice cold and steady.
A soft, musical laugh came through the phone line.
“Europe is lovely this time of year, little brother,” Rebecca replied, completely unfazed by the gravity of her crimes. “You really should visit sometime. Oh wait—I forgot. You live in a cramped little townhouse and count every penny. My apologies.”
The arrogance in her tone made my blood boil, but I forced myself to remain completely calm. In negotiations, anger was a liability.
“You stole four million dollars, ruined our parents, and committed grand larceny and wire fraud across state and international lines,” I stated evenly. “Interpol has your name, the Swiss banks are cooperating with federal investigators, and your accounts are currently being flagged for asset seizure.”
There was a brief pause on the other end of the line, followed by a dismissive snort.
“Please, Daniel. Dad is too proud to let a federal scandal hit the family name. By the time he realizes the gravity of the situation, Mark and I will have moved the capital into secure non-extradition holdings in the Middle East. You can’t touch us.”
“Mark forged Dad’s power of attorney,” I reminded her. “That’s a Class B felony. You think the Swiss are going to protect two common thieves when the DOJ hands over the forensic audit trail?”
“Dad gave us that money indirectly!” Rebecca’s voice spiked with sudden, shrill anger, dropping the playful facade. “He spent my entire childhood telling me I was going to inherit the company! I was his successor! When he retired and handed the reigns to a bunch of outside corporate managers instead of letting Mark run the firm, he broke his promise! We just took what was rightfully ours!”
“You stole from retirement funds, Rebecca. You left Mom and Dad penniless.”
“Mom and Dad can move into a modest condo like normal people!” she snapped. “Or better yet, they can move into that boring little townhouse with you and your precious son. Isn't that what you always wanted? To be the good, obedient son who takes care of aging parents?”
Before I could answer, she let out a sharp laugh.
“Enjoy playing the hero, Daniel. But don't expect us to lose any sleep over it.”
Click.
The line went dead.
I lowered my phone slowly, staring down at the polished marble floor of the office hallway. The raw, venomous entitlement in her voice sickened me. She didn't feel an ounce of remorse. To her, my parents weren't human beings who had been betrayed; they were obstacles she had successfully cleared out of her path.
I walked back into the private office where my mother sat quietly on the sofa, sipping chamomile tea provided by Emily.
Mom looked fragile, her face pale, her eyes red-rimmed from crying. When she saw me enter, she set her teacup down with a trembling hand.
“Was that... was that her?” Mom asked, her voice barely a whisper.
I walked over, sat down beside her on the sofa, and took her cold hands in mine.
“Yes, Mom. It was Rebecca.”
“Did she... did she say anything about us? Does she care at all what they did?”
I looked into my mother’s eyes—eyes that had spent thirty years looking the other way whenever Rebecca misbehaved, refusing to hold her accountable because it was easier to pretend everything was fine.
“No, Mom,” I told her gently, refusing to sugarcoat the reality. “She doesn't care. She thinks she earned it. And she’s currently sitting in Europe spending your retirement savings.”
Mom bowed her head, a fresh tear slipping down her cheek. “I created her, didn't I? I let her get away with everything because she was the girl, because she was so much like my own mother... and I pushed you away because you were quiet and independent.”
I wrapped my arm around her frail shoulders, pulling her close.
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“You’re here now, Mom,” I said softly. “And we’re going to fix this. But we do it my way. No more shielding the guilty. No more family secrets.”
Mom leaned her head against my shoulder and nodded slowly. “Your way, Daniel. From now on, your way.”
