CHAPTER 4: WHAT THE FILES CONTAINED
My father was a retired school administrator, not a computer expert. He knew enough to say we should preserve the original drive and avoid opening every file in front of June. He called a lawyer he trusted, Helena Brooks, who handled family matters and had a colleague specializing in financial investigations. Helena arrived forty minutes later, coat still damp from the rain. She spoke to June first, reassuring her that adults would handle what came next. Then she examined the folder names on a separate computer with us present. There were spreadsheets labeled “trust restructuring,” scans of signatures, insurance statements, and a set of photographs from a medical office. One document appeared to outline how to remove June from a family education trust established by Grant’s late grandfather. Another proposed transferring the house to a company I had never heard of. “Do you recognize this signature?” Helena asked. I did. It was mine, or an imitation close enough to fool a stranger. The date was a Thursday when I had spent all afternoon with June at a pulmonary appointment. “I didn’t sign that,” I said. Helena made no sweeping promises. She asked for the original paperwork, suggested a forensic examination, and told me not to confront Grant about specific files. I had entered the ballroom believing the worst revelation would be his affair. Now I understood he might have been preparing to take much more than my marriage. The thought made me cold. June was in the adjoining room with my mother, drawing rings around Saturn. I watched her through the glass and knew I could not let my anger become another burden she had to carry.
