Chapter 7: What Derek Wanted
I stood beside my car in the driveway of my own house and listened to my brother's voice for the first time in fourteen months.
"I'm listening," I said.
"Good." A pause.
"I want you to know that what happened last night was not something I sanctioned.
Mother went further than I intended.
I had no idea she would—"
"Derek." I kept my voice level.
"The police have eight months of messages between you and her.
Don't tell me what you intended."
A beat of silence.
"Those messages are being taken out of context."
"She was pulling Irene's hair while Carla swung a hammer at our safe.
What context fixes that?"
"I understand you're angry."
"I'm past angry.
What do you want?"
Another pause.
When he spoke again, the smoothness had thinned slightly.
"I want to make an arrangement before this goes to probate court and becomes public.
The will you found — if it's what I think it is — there are grounds to contest it.
Father's mental state in the last months was—"
"His attorney spoke to him six weeks before he died and found him completely coherent."
Silence.
"The notarization is valid," I said.
"The witnesses are traceable.
David is already filing with the probate court tomorrow morning." I paused.
"You have nothing to contest with."
"Austin." His voice changed.
Quieter.
More careful.
"Think about what you're doing to this family."
"I'm not doing anything to this family.
I'm finishing what Dad started."
"If you push this, Mother loses the house."
"Mother is currently facing charges for @ssault on a pregnant woman and conspiracy to commit theft.
The house is the least of her problems."
"She's still your mother."
"She stopped being my mother the second time she put her hands on Irene."
A long silence.
"I can make this easier for you," Derek said.
"Financially.
I have assets in Singapore that aren't part of any of this.
We could reach a private settlement.
You keep the trust, I keep what I have, and nobody goes to court."
"You're offering me a bribe."
"I'm offering you a resolution."
"The resolution is already happening," I said.
"Through the courts.
With evidence.
The way Dad should have done it years ago." I paused.
"Don't call me again, Derek.
Anything you want to say, say it to David."
"Austin—"
I ended the call.
I stood there for a moment.
The afternoon light was shifting.
Somewhere down the street, a neighbor's dog was barking at nothing.
I got in the car.
I drove back to the hospital.
I didn't tell Irene about the call right away.
She was resting when I arrived, and I sat in the chair beside her and watched her sleep for a while.
The monitor beeped.
The baby's heartbeat was strong.
The nurse had written it on the whiteboard at the foot of the bed: *Baby Wentworth — strong and steady.*
When Irene woke, she looked at me and said, "You have that face."
"What face?"
"The one where something happened and you're deciding whether to tell me."
I told her about Derek's call.
She listened without interrupting.
When I finished, she said, "He's scared."
"Yes."
"Good." She shifted carefully against the pillow.
"What happens now?"
"David files tomorrow.
The probate court will review the will.
Given that the original was suppressed, the DA's office may add charges." I paused.
"Margaret's attorney called David this afternoon.
She wants to negotiate."
"Already?"
"She saw the messages.
She knows what's there." I leaned forward.
"Irene, I need to ask you something.
The letter you found — the one behind the desk.
How much did it say about Derek's plan?"
"Enough," she said.
"It referenced the prenup clause.
It referenced the Tempe property.
It said—" She stopped.
"It said that once the baby was born, I would have more leverage to fight back.
That they needed to act before then."
My chest went tight.
"They were going to move before the baby came," I said.
"I think so.
I think tonight was supposed to be the night because you were supposed to be in London for four days." She looked at me steadily.
"They had a window.
They used it."
"And if I hadn't come home."
She didn't answer that.
She didn't need to.
I took her hand.
She let me hold it.
"You should have told me," I said.
"I know why you didn't.
But you should have."
"I know," she said.
"I was trying to protect you."
"I don't need protecting from my own family."
"Everybody needs protecting from their own family sometimes." She looked at me.
"Your father knew that.
That's why he left the note."
I thought about the last line of the note.
*Trust her.
She already knows more than you think.*
He had been right.
My phone buzzed.
A message from David.
*Derek's attorney just contacted me.
He wants to meet.
Tomorrow, 9 a.m.*
I showed Irene the screen.
She read it.
Then she said, "Don't settle."
"I wasn't planning to."
"Good." She handed the phone back.
"Make him face it.
All of it." A pause.
"He planned this for over a year while I was pregnant and alone in that house with his mother.
He doesn't get a quiet exit."
I looked at her.
Three months pregnant, bruised, in a hospital bed, and she was the steadiest person in the room.
"Okay," I said.
"Okay," she said.
May you like
Outside the window, the city was going dark.
The first lights were coming on across the valley, one by one, like something waking up.
