Chapter 5
Marjorie frowned.
“Recordings of what?”
Martin unlocked the screen.
I recognized the wallpaper.
Dad and me standing beside the first truck we had restored together.
I was seventeen.
He had grease on his forehead.
We were both laughing.
Martin opened an audio file.
The room filled with a faint electronic hiss.
Then my father's voice came through the tiny speaker.
“It's October seventeenth. Ethan Whitmore is here again. He thinks Lydia doesn't know what he's been asking me.”
My fingers went cold.
Ethan's face changed.
Not gradually.
Instantly.
His pleasant expression vanished.
Martin pressed play again after the brief pause in the recording.
Dad's voice continued.
“He wants me to sign a document giving him control over the business property. Says it's for Lydia's protection. But I checked the paperwork. It isn't protection.”
Ethan shot out of his chair.
“Turn that off!”
The sudden noise made Brandon flinch.
Marjorie reached for her purse.
Martin paused the recording.
“Sit down, Mr. Whitmore.”
“That is a private conversation!”
“Your father-in-law made this recording on his own device and voluntarily provided it for legal review.”
“You can't just play things like that!”
Martin's expression remained calm.
“Any questions about admissibility can be addressed through the proper legal process. Right now, I suggest you listen.”
Ethan looked at me.
“Lydia, tell him to stop.”
I couldn't move.
Because I remembered October seventeenth.
That evening, Ethan had come home furious.
He told me Dad had insulted him.
Called him irresponsible.
Said he would never trust him with the shop.
I had defended Ethan.
I had called my father and asked him to apologize.
Dad had gone quiet.
Then he said, “Sweetheart, someday you'll understand.”
I had hung up angry.
Now, sitting beneath the fluorescent lights of Martin's conference room, I understood why Dad hadn't argued.
He had been protecting me from a truth I wasn't ready to see.
“Play it,” I whispered.
Ethan shook his head.
“Lydia, don't.”
I looked at Martin.
“Please.”
Martin touched the screen.
Dad's voice returned.
“The proposed agreement would have allowed Ethan to borrow against the shop property. He already has a lender lined up. I called the lender myself.”
A second voice came through the speaker.
Ethan's.
Smooth.
Impatient.
“George, you're making this unnecessarily difficult. It's just a temporary arrangement.”
Dad replied, “Temporary until what?”
“Until Brandon gets the restaurant back on its feet.”
“And if he doesn't?”
A pause.