Chapter 3: My Wife's Silence
Jordan recovered first.
He stood and walked toward me, his hands open.
"Where did you hear that name?""
I looked at him.
"That's an interesting question.""
"Dad, listen. It's a business arrangement.""
"With whom?""
"Some outside consultants.""
"Who?""
He glanced at Claire.
She was still standing beside the sofa, staring at the broken glass.
"Mom?""
She didn't answer.
I placed the folder on the coffee table.
"Two hundred and forty thousand dollars went to this company. I want to know why.""
Jordan exhaled sharply.
"Those payments were authorized.""
"By whom?""
"Grandpa approved the initial arrangement.""
"Your grandfather was dying.""
"That doesn't mean he couldn't make decisions.""
"Then why did he write that he was worried about the money?""
Jordan's jaw tightened.
"Because Uncle Marcus poisoned his mind.""
I watched him carefully.
"Marcus says Grandpa asked him to investigate.""
"Of course he does. Marcus has always wanted a piece of this company.""
"Your uncle hasn't worked here in thirty years.""
"Exactly. And now he suddenly appears with financial documents?""
Jordan laughed without humor.
"Come on, Dad. You're smarter than this.""
It was a familiar tactic.
Jordan had always known how to make me feel foolish for questioning him.
When he was sixteen, he once convinced me that a broken window was caused by a neighborhood kid. I later found a baseball bat hidden in his closet.
He had smiled then, too.
I turned toward Claire.
"Did you know?""
She looked at Jordan.
Then at me.
"Arthur, we should discuss this privately.""
"That's what Marcus said three years ago. I'm tired of private conversations.""
Jordan stepped between us.
"Mom doesn't know anything about the business.""
Claire flinched.
I noticed.
"Why did you answer for her?""
Jordan's expression hardened.
"Because you're upsetting her.""
I almost laughed.
My son was protecting my wife from my questions while refusing to answer any of them himself.
"Leave," I said.
He stared.
"What?""
"Go home. I'll call you tomorrow.""
"Dad, you're making a mistake.""
"Maybe. But it's mine to make.""
Jordan picked up his coat.
Before leaving, he leaned close.
"Don't let Marcus destroy this family.""
Then he walked out.
The front door closed.
Claire remained beside the sofa.
I knelt to pick up the broken glass.
"Leave it," she whispered.
I looked up.
"Why?""
She sat down.
"Because I need to tell you something.""
I placed the glass in the wastebasket and sat opposite her.
"Then tell me.""
Claire rubbed her wedding ring with her thumb.
"Your father called me three days before he died.""
I said nothing.
"He asked me to come to the hospital without telling you.""
"Why?""
"He said he needed to speak to me about Jordan.""
My chest tightened.
"What did he say?""
Claire closed her eyes.
"He told me Jordan had been taking money from the company.""
I stared at her.
"How much did you know?""
"I didn't know the total.""
"Did you know about Northbridge?""
She nodded.
"Yes.""
The room went silent.
I heard the refrigerator humming in the kitchen.
A clock ticked above the fireplace.
Three years.
Three entire years.
"Why didn't you tell me?""
Claire's eyes filled.
"Because your father asked me not to.""
I stood.
"Don't use Dad as an excuse.""
"He said he needed time. He believed Jordan had been pressured into something, and he wanted to give him a chance to fix it.""
"Pressured by whom?""
Claire shook her head.
"I don't know.""
"You knew our son was involved in stealing from the company, and you said nothing?""
"I thought the money would be returned.""
"How?""
She wiped her cheeks.
"Your father had a plan.""
"What plan?""
"He wanted Marcus to recover the money quietly. He had already arranged for the separate account to cover the company's expenses if things went wrong.""
I remembered the $380,000.
The money I had accused Marcus of stealing.
My father hadn't been rewarding him.
He had been preparing him to protect the business.
I sank into the chair.
"Why didn't Dad tell me?""
Claire looked at me for a long time.
"Because he was afraid you'd do exactly what you did.""
"What?""
"Choose Jordan over the truth.""
I felt as though someone had struck me.
"That's not fair.""
"Isn't it?""
She leaned forward.
"Arthur, your father knew how much you loved Jordan. He also knew how much you wanted him to inherit the company. He believed you would dismiss the evidence if it meant admitting your son had done something wrong.""
I shook my head.
"Jordan is my son.""
"Marcus is your brother.""
I looked away.
Claire continued.
"Your father made me promise not to tell you until he had proof. Then he died. And Jordan came to me.""
"What did he say?""
"He told me that if the investigation became public, the company would collapse. He said eighty families depended on those jobs. He begged me to give him time.""
"And you believed him?""
"I wanted to.""
Her voice broke.
"He was our son, Arthur.""
I sat motionless.
For three years, I had blamed Marcus for betraying our father.
Meanwhile, my wife had known about the missing money, and my son had continued running the company.
I looked at Claire.
"Did you know Marcus was innocent when I banned him?""
She nodded.
The answer came so quickly that it hurt more than anything else.
"Yes.""
I couldn't speak.
She reached toward me.
I pulled my hand away.
"Three years, Claire.""
"I know.""
"Three Christmases. Three birthdays. Maya asking why her uncle never visited. Jordan standing beside me while I called Marcus a thief.""
"I know.""
"You watched me destroy my relationship with my own brother.""
Claire began crying.
"I thought I was protecting our family.""
I stared at her.
"From what?""
She opened her mouth.
Then closed it.
I leaned forward.
"Claire, what aren't you telling me?""
She looked toward the staircase.
Then she whispered, "There was another account.""
My stomach tightened.
"What account?""
"Your father discovered that Northbridge wasn't the only place receiving money.""
I gripped the armrest.
"Who else was involved?""
Claire's face crumpled.
"I don't know all the names. But I saw a document in Jordan's study. It had three signatures.""
"Whose?""
She swallowed.
"Jordan's. Someone from the company. And...""
She stopped.
"And who, Claire?""
Her eyes met mine.
"Mine.""
For several seconds, I couldn't move.
My wife had signed something connected to the missing money.
She had known about the transfers.
And she had allowed me to believe Marcus was the traitor.
"Why did you sign it?""
Claire shook her head.
"Jordan told me it was a temporary authorization. He said the company was having cash-flow problems and needed an emergency account.""
"Where is that document now?""
"I don't know.""
"Claire!""
She stood, trembling.
"Arthur, I need you to understand. I never took a dollar for myself.""
"Then why is your signature on it?""
She looked toward the front window.
A car had stopped outside.
Jordan stepped out.
But he wasn't alone.
A second man emerged from the passenger side, carrying a large brown envelope.
Claire's face went white.
"Who's that?"" I asked.
She whispered, "The man your father was trying to keep away from us.""
The doorbell rang.
I walked toward the entrance.
Before I could reach it, my phone vibrated.
A message from Marcus appeared on the screen.
Arthur, don't let Jordan inside with that man. I finally found out who really owns Northbridge.
A second message arrived.
And it's not your son.
I looked through the glass.
Jordan was standing on my porch, smiling nervously.
The stranger beside him raised the brown envelope.
Then my phone rang.
Marcus again.
I answered.
May you like
His first words made my blood run cold.
"Arthur, listen carefully. Your father didn't discover the betrayal too late. He discovered it years before he died. And the person who started it has been sitting at your dinner table all along.""
