Chapter 8: What Ximena Said
Arthur's voice on the phone was the quietest I had ever heard it.
"Ximena Reyes contacted the AG's office at nine forty-seven this morning," he said.
"Before your father's statement.
Before my call yesterday afternoon had even been fully processed."
"She knew it was coming."
"She knew.
And she didn't wait." He paused.
"Genevieve, what she told them — it goes further than the account structure.
Further than the medical rejections."
I sat down.
"Tell me."
"The quarterly dependent allowance that Ximena administered — the one she cited when she rejected Hazel's medication request — Julian set that figure himself.
Deliberately low.
He told Ximena the figure was set by the family trust's legal requirements.
She believed him for the first year.
Then she started asking questions, and he told her the allowance was structured that way to protect the estate from what he called 'open-ended medical liability.'"
"He called his daughter open-ended medical liability."
"That's the language he used with Ximena.
She wrote it down.
She kept notes." Arthur's voice was careful.
"She says she kept them because she was afraid.
She didn't know what to do with them.
She told herself it was a family matter, not her place.
But she kept the notes."
"For how long?"
"Two years.
Everything from the second year of your marriage onward.
Every conversation where Julian gave her instructions on the medical account.
Every time he told her to hold a request, delay a review, mark something as non-essential." A pause.
"The medication request that stayed *Under Review* for seven days — Julian told her personally to hold it.
He told her the cardiologist was being alarmist and that you were using Hazel's condition to extract money from the family."
The room was very quiet.
"He said that," I said.
"He said that to Ximena.
She wrote it down the same day.
The note is dated."
I thought about the seven days.
About resubmitting the request.
About the doctor who had paid out of his own pocket.
About the morning of the seventh day.
"She kept the notes," I said, "and she said nothing."
"Yes."
"For two years."
"Yes." Arthur let that sit.
"I know what you're feeling right now.
But her notes are what turns this from a civil fraud case into something the AG can move on criminally.
Without her records, we had financial documents.
With her records, we have intent.
We have Julian's own words, documented in real time, proving he knew exactly what he was doing and why."
I pressed my hand against my knee.
"Is she protected?" I asked.
"She's cooperating fully.
The AG's office will consider that.
But she'll still face consequences for her own role — the false witness signature, the two years of compliance." He paused.
"She asked if you would be willing to speak with her."
"No," I said immediately.
"I told them that was likely your answer."
"Not yet," I said.
"Maybe not ever.
But not now."
"Understood." Arthur's voice shifted slightly.
"There's one more thing.
When Ximena gave her statement, she mentioned something Julian said to her recently.
In the last forty-eight hours."
"What?"
"He told her that if the investigation moved forward, he would place the full responsibility for the medical account decisions on her.
He said he had documentation showing she acted independently, without his authorization." Arthur paused.
"He was going to let her take everything."
I thought about Julian on the sidewalk.
*Ximena is loyal.*
He had already been planning to destroy her.
"She knew that when she called the AG," I said.
"Yes," Arthur said.
"She got there first."
Outside my hotel window, the Chicago skyline was going dark, building by building, the way it does in late afternoon when the clouds come in low.
I watched it for a moment.
"What happens now?" I asked.
"The AG's office executes a formal document request on the Vance family's financial holdings tomorrow morning," Arthur said.
"Julian will be notified when it lands.
After that, it moves on its own timeline." He paused.
"Are you all right?"
May you like
I thought about how to answer that.
"Ask me again when it's finished," I said.
