“You already know?”
“I know you brought documents.”
The silence sharpened.
Grant turned toward his wife.
Vivian kept staring at Eleanor.
Eleanor continued.
“Power of attorney. Control over management of the estate. Voting authority over the Whitmore Industries shares that remain in my name. And a preliminary agreement allowing several of my investment accounts to be controlled by a company managed by your father.”
Charles stepped forward immediately.
“That is a serious misrepresentation.”
Eleanor almost smiled.
“Then correct me.”
No one spoke.
Eleanor waited.
Charles cleared his throat.
“The arrangement was designed to safeguard family assets.”
“From me.”
“From poor judgment.”
“And who decides whether my judgment is poor?”
His voice cooled.
“Professionals.”
“Professionals employed by you?”
Margaret shut her eyes.
Vivian noticed.
“Mom?”
Margaret opened them.
“I’m fine.”
But Eleanor could see the truth.
Her fingers were trembling around the silver clutch.
And Eleanor knew the evening had finally reached the point beyond which none of them could return.
