Chapter 4: Six Oranges
She called four more times before he answered.
He put her on speaker without asking Samantha's permission.
Samantha didn't object.
She simply moved her chair slightly closer to the bed and folded her arms.
"Connor, sweetheart, how are you feeling?" Evelyn's voice was warm, concerned, the voice of a mother who had been worried sick.
"We had to leave — Alison wasn't feeling well and Brandon had a meeting first thing tomorrow.
You understand."
"I understand," he said.
"Good.
Now listen, I spoke to the hospital billing office this morning and they said Samantha already covered the deposit.
I want to reimburse her, of course.
Just have her send me the total and I'll—"
"Mom.
Stop."
A pause.
"What's wrong?
You sound strange.
Are you in pain?"
"I want to talk about the condo in Coronado."
The pause this time was different.
Longer.
The warmth in her voice didn't disappear, but it shifted — pulled back slightly, the way a hand pulls back from something hot.
"Where did you hear about that?"
"It doesn't matter where I heard about it.
I want you to tell me about it."
"It's — Connor, that's a complicated situation.
I was going to tell you when the time was right.
I put that property in my name temporarily because of some tax considerations.
It was always meant to be for the family.
For you and Leo eventually."
"The down payment came from my account."
"I was holding your money.
I used some of it for an investment that would benefit all of us.
That's what I've always done — everything for this family."
Samantha's jaw tightened.
She didn't speak.
"You used 38,000 dollars of my money," Connor said, "to buy yourself a property, and you didn't tell me."
"I didn't tell you because you would have overreacted.
Exactly like you're doing now." Her voice shifted again — harder now, the warmth almost entirely gone.
"Your wife has been filling your head with things.
I can hear it.
She's been waiting for a moment like this, Connor.
She's never accepted this family."
"She saved my life yesterday."
Silence.
"She put 5,000 dollars on the table when you were playing music at a party," he said.
"You brought oranges."
"That is not fair—"
"How much is left?" he asked.
"Of my money.
How much is actually left in savings?"
Another silence.
This one told him everything.
"Mom.
How much is left."
"These things take time to calculate—"
"Is there anything left at all?"
The silence stretched four full seconds.
"I need to speak with Brandon before I can give you an accurate number," she said finally.
"He handles the accounts."
Connor looked at Samantha.
She was looking at the floor.
"I'll call you back," he said, and ended the call.
He set the phone down.
His hands were steady now, which surprised him.
He had expected to feel rage.
Instead he felt something colder and quieter — the particular feeling of a man who has just confirmed something he already knew but had refused to believe.
"She's going to call Brandon," Samantha said.
"I know."
"He'll move whatever is left before you can touch it."
"I know." He reached for the folder still sitting on the edge of the bed.
"Call Daniel.
Tell him we need to move today."
Samantha was already picking up her phone.
But before she could dial, the hospital room door opened.
Brandon stepped in, still wearing the same jacket from the night before, the truck keys gone from his hand.
His smile was easy, practiced, the smile of a man who had talked his way out of things before.
"Hey," he said.
"Heard you had a rough night.
How are you feeling?"
May you like
Connor looked at his brother and said nothing.
Brandon's smile held for exactly three seconds before something behind it flickered.
