Ruth’s attorney arranged for us to meet Dad at a quiet diner the next morning.
He arrived twenty minutes late and stopped when he saw his mother.
“David,” Ruth said.
Dad looked toward the exit.
“Sit down,” I told him.
“I have nothing to say.”
Theo pushed the old photograph across the table.
“You were younger here.”
Dad’s shoulders fell.
He sat, but he did not touch the photograph.
“Mom told me you were in assisted living,” he said to Ruth.
“And you believed her for eight years?”
“She showed me medical papers.”
“What papers?” Ruth asked.
Dad rubbed his forehead.
“An evaluation.
It said you had memory problems.”
Ruth placed her driver’s license and bank statement on the table.
“I still live in the same house.
I still manage my own affairs.”
Dad stared at the address.
“Elaine said the house had been sold.”
“She lied to you,” I said.
“And you helped her lie to us.”
“I never wrote that letter.”
“But you told Ruth we wanted no contact.”
Dad gripped his coffee cup.
“Elaine said you blamed Ruth for the divorce.”
“I was seventeen when you left,” I said.
“You never asked me anything.”
Theo leaned toward him.
“Why didn’t you visit?”
Dad’s fingers slipped from the cup.
“I thought you were better without me.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“No,” Dad said.
“It isn’t.”
Theo stood so quickly the table shook.
“I waited by the window on my tenth birthday.
Marcus made two cakes because he thought you might come late.”
Dad covered his eyes.
“Sit down, Theo,” I said softly.
“I don’t want to sit near him.”
Theo walked to the next booth.
The waitress, a stern woman named Carla who had heard more than any of us intended, brought him a glass of water.
“You can sit here as long as you need,” she told him.
“Nobody will rush you.”
Dad watched her place a bowl of wrapped mints beside Theo.
“What does Elaine want?” he asked.
“She filed for emergency custody.”
His head snapped up.
“Why?”
“Because we found Ruth.”
Ruth opened a folder.
“And because the trust should contain more than four hundred thousand dollars.”
Dad went still.
“How much is left?” I asked.
“I don’t know.”
“You signed something,” Ruth said.
Dad looked down.
“What did you sign?” I demanded.
“Six years ago, Elaine brought papers to my apartment.
She said they let her pay for Theo’s residential care.”
“He never went into residential care.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“You didn’t check.”
Dad’s voice rose.
“I was a mess, Marcus!”
“So was I.
I was nineteen, and I still showed up.”
Every table around us seemed to disappear.
Dad pulled a flash drive from his pocket and placed it beside Ruth’s folder.
“I copied Elaine’s emails last night.”
“Why?” Ruth asked.
“Because Paul called me after the grocery store.
He told me to repeat the story about your memory.”
“What did you say?”
“I told him I wouldn’t.”
Ruth picked up the drive.
“What is on this?”
“Messages, account statements, and the document I signed.
Elaine changed the last page after my signature.”
I leaned forward.
“Can you prove that?”
“The original was attached to an email.
The filed version has different account instructions.”
Dad reached across the table, but Theo remained in the other booth.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
Theo looked at his hand.
“Sorry is not visiting.”
Dad pulled his hand back.
“You’re right.”
My phone buzzed.
It was Jenna.
Marcus, the store manager deleted yesterday’s security video.
I made a copy first.
Paul came in this morning asking for it.
I showed Dad the message.
“Paul is destroying evidence,” Ruth said.
Dad’s face tightened.
“Then you need to hear the recording on that drive.”
“What recording?”
