Chapter 6: Madison Calls
She called again that afternoon.
I was at my office, sitting across from Gwen and our attorney, Diane, going through the lien on the secondary account.
Diane had already filed to have it frozen pending the investigation.
The bank had been cooperative.
The eighty-two thousand dollars was not going anywhere.
I let Madison's call go to voicemail.
Twenty minutes later, a text: *Claire please.
I need to talk to you.*
Gwen looked at my phone screen from across the desk.
She didn't say anything.
Diane kept talking.
I kept listening.
An hour after that, I was alone in my office when I called Madison back.
She answered on the first ring.
"Thank you," she said.
"Thank you for calling."
"What do you want, Madison?"
A pause.
"Mom and Dad called me this morning.
Dad said the police are trying to make it look like he did something wrong.
He said you went to them.
He said you're trying to destroy the family because of the car."
I leaned back in my chair.
"And what do you think?"
"I don't know what to think."
"Yes you do."
Another pause.
Longer this time.
"He used my identity for ten years," I said.
"He forged my signature on three loan documents.
He opened accounts in my name when I was nineteen years old.
There is a lien on my business for eighty-two thousand dollars that I did not authorize.
None of that is something I invented because I'm upset about a car."
"He said the police are exaggerating—"
"Madison." My voice came out flat.
"You watched me get pulled to the floor at your wedding.
You watched Mom run to you and not to me.
You watched Dad tell me to leave.
And then you filed a complaint against me."
Silence.
"Why did you file the complaint?" I said.
"Mom told me to."
The words came out small.
Like she already knew how they sounded.
"Mom told you to file a complaint against your sister who had just been assaulted at your wedding," I said.
"She said it would help Dad's case.
That if I showed you were being difficult—"
"Stop." I pressed two fingers against my forehead.
"Madison, listen to me.
I am not your enemy.
I have never been your enemy.
But I need you to understand something.
What Mom and Dad did to me is a crjme.
It is not a family argument.
It is not me being dramatic.
It is a crjme that they committed against me for ten years, and it is going to have consequences."
"What kind of consequences?"
"The kind that come from a court."
She was quiet for a long time.
"Eric thinks I should talk to a lawyer," she finally said.
"Eric is right."
"Claire—" Her voice cracked.
"I didn't know.
About any of it.
I swear I didn't know."
I believed her.
That was the hardest part.
I believed her completely, and it didn't change anything.
"I know," I said.
"But you still filed the complaint."
"I'll withdraw it.
I'll call them today."
"That's your decision to make."
"Are you—" She stopped.
Started again.
"Are you going to be okay?"
I looked out the window.
The afternoon light was flat and grey, the kind of sky that can't decide what it wants to do.
"I don't know yet," I said honestly.
She started crying then.
Quietly, the way Madison cried when she actually meant it, not the performance tears from the night before.
"I'm sorry," she said.
"I'm so sorry, Claire."
I didn't say it was fine.
It wasn't fine.
"Withdraw the complaint," I said.
"And don't let Mom tell you what to do anymore."
I hung up.
Gwen knocked on the glass door and opened it a crack.
"Everything okay?"
"Getting there," I said.
She looked at me for a moment.
May you like
Then she set a cup of coffee on the edge of my desk and pulled the door closed behind her.
I wrapped both hands around it and sat in the quiet.
