Chapter 6: What Courtney Found Out
She had gone to Walter after I left the restaurant.
She told me this standing in the doorway of my hotel room, her heels in her hand, her voice very quiet so she wouldn't wake the children.
"I asked him directly," she said.
"I told him I needed the truth.
All of it."
"And he told you?"
"He told me enough." She sat on the edge of the small armchair near the window.
The ocean was dark beyond the glass.
"He told me about Carol.
He told me about Renee."
I waited.
"He cried," she said.
"I've never seen my father cry.
Not at funerals.
Not when he was sick last year.
Tonight he sat in that restaurant after everyone left and he cried."
"What did you say to him?"
"I didn't say anything for a long time." She looked at her hands.
"Then I asked him about the money.
Your money.
The $85,000."
"What did he say?"
"He said he was ashamed.
He said he told himself it was temporary.
That he would pay it back before you ever needed to know." She paused.
"He said he told himself you were family, so it wasn't really wrong."
The familiar phrase landed differently now.
Family.
The word they used to take and to justify and to seal over things that should have been spoken out loud years ago.
"Did he tell you about Lance?" I asked.
Her expression shifted.
"What about Lance?"
So Walter hadn't told her everything.
I told her about Raymond.
About Lance knowing since 2019.
About the leverage.
Courtney sat very still through all of it.
When I finished she was quiet for a long moment.
"Lance has been blackmailing our father," she said.
Not a question.
"That's what it sounds like."
She stood up.
I thought she was going to leave.
Instead she walked to the window and stood with her back to me, looking out at the dark water.
"I owe you an apology," she said.
"Not just for tonight.
For a long time."
"Courtney—"
"Let me finish." She turned around.
Her eyes were dry now.
Something had settled in her face.
"I knew they treated you badly.
I told myself it was just their way.
I told myself you were strong enough to handle it.
I told myself that if I pushed back every time, we'd never have any peace." She stopped.
"I was wrong.
And the worst part is that I knew I was wrong while I was doing it.
I just kept choosing the easier thing."
Lucas's door was still closed.
Paige's breathing was steady and slow from the other room.
"What do you want to do?" I asked.
"I want to fix it.
I don't know if I can.
But I want to try." She looked at me.
"Do you still want me to try?"
I thought about the seating chart.
The waiter guiding my children toward the column.
Paige's face when she asked if she'd done something wrong.
Lucas's hand on his sister's shoulder.
I thought about twelve years of kept peace.
"I don't know yet," I said.
"I need some time."
She nodded.
She picked up her heels.
"There's an envelope in your jacket," she said quietly.
"From my father.
I saw him give it to Raymond."
"I know."
"Are you going to open it?"
"Not tonight."
She nodded again.
At the door she paused.
"Brandon.
What you did tonight — in front of everyone — I'm not going to pretend it didn't hurt.
But I understand why you did it." She looked at the floor.
"Lucas and Paige deserved better than what we gave them tonight."
She closed the door behind her.
I sat in the chair by the window for a long time.
The envelope was in my jacket on the back of the door.
I could feel it from across the room.
My phone buzzed.
Lance.
I let it ring.
He called again.
I let it ring again.
The third time, I picked up.
"Brandon." His voice was different.
The easy contempt was gone.
What was underneath it was something I hadn't heard from Lance before.
"We need to talk.
Before you do anything else with what you know."
"It's late, Lance."
"I know.
I know it's late.
Just — don't do anything yet.
Give me until morning.
I can explain."
"Can you?"
A long pause.
"Some of it."
"Go to sleep, Lance."
I ended the call.
Outside, the ocean moved in the dark.
Somewhere in Tucson, a twenty-two-year-old woman named Renee had been writing letters to a father who kept intercepting them.
I reached into my jacket and took out the envelope.
I set it on the table in front of me.
May you like
I didn't open it.
But I didn't put it away either.
