Chapter 2 - The Group Chat Explosion
We were barely out of the driveway when Marianne’s phone buzzed. Then mine. Then Marianne’s again. Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. It sounded like a hive of angry hornets inside the car.
Twenty-three minutes after I walked out of my parents’ house, Aunt Carol was calling me nonstop. I didn't answer. I kept my eyes on the road, my hands gripping the steering wheel so hard my knuckles were white. In the rearview mirror, Ethan was staring out the window, wiping his cheek with the back of his sleeve. Lily was clutching a stuffed bunny, completely silent. The silence from the backseat was heavier than any screaming match could ever be.
“Ryan,” Marianne whispered, her voice trembling just a little. “What did you do?” “I defended our family,” I replied, keeping my voice steady. “Your phone hasn't stopped ringing. Your dad called twice. Your brother texted five times.” “Read the group chat, Marianne.”
She unlocked her phone. The screen illuminated her face in the darkening car. She scrolled. Her eyes widened. She read my message aloud, her voice barely above a whisper.
*"Carol just announced that the family trust is for 'blood relatives only' and excluded my children. It's funny she cares so much about the rules of the trust today. Three weeks ago, while helping Dad look through Granddad’s old office, I found the original 2018 Trust Amendment. The one Granddad signed before he passed.
Clause 4 clearly defines 'descendants' as 'all children, biological or legally adopted.'
But that's not the interesting part. The interesting part is the ledger I found hidden in the back of the filing cabinet. The one showing Carol transferring $120,000 from the trust’s main account into her personal LLC over the last four years.
You didn't exclude my kids to protect Granddad's legacy, Carol. You did it because you're running out of money to steal, and you're trying to cut down the number of shares.
Have a great Easter."*
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Marianne stopped reading. She looked at me, completely stunned. “Is this true?” she asked. “Every word,” I said.
My phone rang again. It was Carol. I finally hit the button to accept the call and put it on speaker. “Ryan!” Carol’s voice was hysterical, completely stripped of her usual country-club polish. “Take that down right now! You don’t know what you’re talking about!” “The text stays, Carol,” I said. “You are tearing this family apart over a misunderstanding!” she shrieked. “No,” I said calmly. “You tore it apart when you closed your purse. I’m just showing everyone why.” I hung up and turned off my phone.
