Victor was in his seventies, with silver hair and tired eyes. The moment he saw me, he stopped walking.
“You look like Daniel,” he said.
I had not heard anyone speak my father’s name with affection in years.
Inside a private consultation room, Victor placed documents across the table.
The truth came piece by piece.
My father had cofounded Northline with Victor’s brother and two investors. When cancer spread through his body, he prepared a trust for his future grandchildren.
Teresa had demanded direct control of his shares.
He refused.
Shortly before his death, he discovered that she had withdrawn money from an education account created for me. She had also opened credit cards using my Social Security number.
“He planned to divorce her,” Victor said.
My throat tightened. “She told me he adored her.”
“He was afraid of what she might do after he died. That is why he placed the assets beyond her reach.”
