Chapter 4
The first week alone in the mansion was the strangest week of my life.
I kept waiting for Karen to come screaming down the hall, for Ethan to blast his music so loud the windows rattled, for someone to tell me I didn’t belong there.
But no one did.
The house was quiet. Too quiet, sometimes.
I wandered from room to room, running my hand along the walls, touching things that had always been off-limits to me. The chandelier in the dining room that Karen had screamed at me for breaking when I was 13 (I hadn’t broken it—Ethan had thrown a baseball at it). The library full of dad’s old books, which Karen had locked and said I was too stupid to read. The sunroom where my mom used to sit and paint, before she died, before Karen came and turned it into her own private closet.
I had Maria take all of Karen’s clothes out of the sunroom, donate them to a women’s shelter, and bring my mom’s old easel and paint supplies up from the basement, where they’d been stored for 10 years.
I sat in there for hours every day, just looking at the garden, not painting anything. Just being.
Arthur called every day, checking in, making sure I was okay, walking me through the basics of the trust—how the investments worked, how much I could spend each year, how to pay the bills.
It was overwhelming.
$42 million was more money than I could ever imagine spending.
I’d spent my whole life worrying about having enough. Worrying that Karen would cut me off, that I’d end up on the street. Now I had enough to last 10 lifetimes.
I didn’t know what to do with it.
Then, on the seventh day, the letter came.
It was from a law firm I’d never heard of, postmarked Atlanta.
I opened it, my hands already cold.
It was a lawsuit.
Karen was suing me.
She claimed dad had been suffering from advanced dementia when he signed the transfer documents, that I’d manipulated him, coerced him, taken advantage of his sick, vulnerable state to steal his entire fortune from his rightful wife and son.
She was asking the court to void all the transfers, give her back the entire estate, and award her $5 million in punitive damages for “emotional distress.”
I read the letter three times.
My hands were shaking so bad I almost dropped it.
She was doing it. She was actually doing what she’d threatened.
I called Arthur immediately. He picked up on the first ring.
“Arthur,” I said, my voice cracking. “She sued me. Karen. She says dad was demented, that I stole everything. I—”
“Breathe, Olivia,” he said, calm as always. “Breathe. I was expecting this. It’s a standard scare tactic. She has no evidence. Nothing. We have everything we need to throw this out before it even gets in front of a judge.”
“But what if the judge believes her?” I whispered. “What if she wins? What if I lose everything?”
“She won’t,” he said. “I have Daniel’s complete medical records from the last five years. Every doctor who treated him will testify under oath that he was completely lucid, of sound mind, up until the last 48 hours of his life. The two witnesses who signed the transfer documents? They’re both retired judges. They’ll testify there was no coercion, no manipulation. Daniel explained exactly what he was doing, why he was doing it, and they signed off on it. We also have the video.”
“Video?” I said.
“Daniel recorded a video the day he signed the transfers,” he said. “He sat in this office, looked right at the camera, and explained exactly why he was leaving everything to you. Why he was cutting Karen and Ethan off. It’s 45 minutes long. It’s irrefutable. No judge in the world would rule against us with that evidence.”
I let out a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding.
“Why didn’t you tell me about the video before?” I asked.
“Daniel asked me not to,” he said. “He said you’d see it when you needed to. And you need to now. Can you come down to my office tomorrow morning? I’ll play it for you. And we’ll go over our response to the lawsuit. I promise you, Olivia. This is over before it starts.”
I hung up the phone, my heart still racing, but the cold fear in my chest was starting to melt.
Dad had thought of everything.
Every single thing.
The next morning, I drove to Arthur’s office in midtown Atlanta. I’d bought a used Honda Civic the day before—nothing fancy, just reliable. I’d thought about buying a fancy sports car, like Ethan had, but it felt wrong.
Arthur’s office was on the 20th floor, with floor-to-ceiling windows looking out over the city. He had a pot of coffee waiting for me, and a stack of files on his desk.
“Ready?” he said, after I’d sat down and sipped some coffee.
I nodded.
He turned on a large TV on the wall, pressed play on a remote.
The screen flickered, then dad’s face filled it.
My throat tightened.
He looked younger. Healthier. This was three years ago, right after his first round of chemo, when his hair was just starting to grow back. He was sitting in his study, in his leather chair, wearing his favorite flannel shirt.
He looked right at the camera, and smiled.
“Hi, baby girl,” he said, and my eyes filled with tears. “If you’re watching this, it means Karen is trying to fight the transfers. I knew she would. That woman never knew when to quit.”
He leaned forward, his expression serious now.
“To any judge, any lawyer, any person who sees this,” he said, his voice clear and strong. “My name is Daniel Carter. Today is my daughter Olivia’s eighteenth birthday. I am of completely sound mind. No one has coerced me, manipulated me, or influenced me in any way to make these decisions. I am doing this of my own free will, because it is what I want, and what is right.”
He paused, took a breath.
“Seven years ago, I made the biggest mistake of my life. I married Karen Bennett. I thought she loved me. I thought she’d be a mother to Olivia, who lost her own mom when she was 10. I was wrong.
“From the day she moved into this house, Karen has abused my daughter. Verbally. Emotionally. Financially. She has done everything in her power to make Olivia feel small, unwanted, unloved. I let it happen. I was weak. I thought if I gave Karen enough money, enough things, she’d stop. She never did.
“Three years ago, I found out she’d been stealing from my company. Over $1.2 million at that point. I confronted her. She cried, she begged, she promised she’d stop. I didn’t believe her. But I also didn’t want a public divorce. I didn’t want Olivia dragged through the mud. So I started planning.
“I transferred everything to Olivia. Every asset. Every dollar. Because I know Karen will never stop trying to take it. And if it’s in Olivia’s name, legally, irrevocably, she can’t.
“My son, Ethan? He is not a bad boy. But he is weak. He has let his mother turn him into a cruel, entitled young man. He has stood by and watched her abuse Olivia for seven years and done nothing. He has joined in, more often than not. He has made his choices. He will have to live with them.
“Olivia is the best thing that ever happened to me. She is kind, and smart, and good, in a way I never was. She deserves every good thing this world has to offer. I am sorry I won’t be here to give it to her myself. But this is the best I can do.
“Anyone who tries to take this from her? Anyone who tries to hurt her? They will have to answer to me. And to the law.
“I love you, Olivia. More than anything. Be brave. I’m right here with you.”
The video cut to black.
I was sobbing openly now, tears running down my face, dripping onto my blouse.
Arthur handed me a box of tissues, and waited quietly until I could breathe again.
“See?” he said softly. “There is no way she wins this. No way.”
I wiped my face, nodded.
“I know,” I said. My voice was rough, but steady. “I know.”
We spent the next two hours going over the response to the lawsuit. Arthur had already drafted it, attaching all the evidence—medical records, witness statements, the video, the bank records of Karen’s embezzlement.
“We’ll file this today,” he said. “And we’ll file a motion to dismiss her suit as frivolous. It’ll be thrown out within 30 days. Mark my words.”
I stood up to leave, feeling lighter than I had in days.
“Arthur?” I said, pausing at the door.
“Yes?”
“Thank you,” I said. “For everything. Dad trusted you. And now I do, too.”
He smiled, a rare, warm smile.
“It’s my honor, Olivia,” he said. “Now go home. And try not to worry. This is almost over.”
I walked out of his office, into the bright Atlanta sun, and for the first time in a long time, I felt like I could breathe.
Karen could sue me all she wanted.
May you like
I had the truth on my side.
And I had dad.
