Chapter 6 - The Sons Return
They came back two days later.
Not together.
Mark arrived first in a black Mercedes I knew he could not afford.
He stood on my porch holding flowers.
White lilies.
The same flowers Robert hated.
I opened the door but did not invite him in.
“Hi, Mom.”
“Hi.”
He lifted the bouquet awkwardly.
“I should’ve come.”
“Yes.”
“I was angry.”
“Yes.”
“Can I come inside?”
“No.”
His jaw tightened.
Then relaxed.
He had always been good at adjusting his face before asking for something.
“Lucas said you met with Dad’s lawyer.”
“Lucas says a lot.”
“Mom, we’re family.”
I almost laughed.
“Were we family last week?”
He looked down.
“That was different.”
“How?”
“We thought Dad left a disaster.”
There it was.
Not grief.
Not guilt.
Risk assessment.
“What changed?”
“Nothing.”
“Then why are you here?”
His eyes flicked toward the house.
“Because you’re my mother.”
I let the silence stretch.
He finally said, “Did Dad leave you anything?”
I looked him straight in the face.
“Yes.”
Mark swallowed.
“What?”
“A question.”
His expression tightened.
“What question?”
I repeated Robert’s words.
“Would you be here if he had really died poor?”
For a second, Mark looked like I had slapped him.
Then he stepped closer.
“Dad manipulated everybody.”
“You skipped his funeral because of a balance sheet.”
“He spent years controlling us with money.”
“Then why do you care what he left?”
His eyes flashed.
“Because some of it is ours.”
“No. Some of it might have become yours.”
“What does that mean?”
Before I could answer, another car pulled into the driveway.
Lucas.
He got out holding no flowers.
At least he was honest about that.
He walked toward us fast.
“Tell her,” he said to Mark.
Mark’s face went pale.
“Tell me what?”
Lucas pointed at his brother.
“Tell Mom why Northstar knows Dad is dead.”
Mark turned on him.
“Shut up.”
Lucas laughed once.
“You already sold them your inheritance, genius.”
I stared at Mark.
“What did he just say?”
Mark said nothing.
Lucas looked directly at me.
“Three months ago, Mark signed a contract promising Northstar forty percent of whatever he inherited from Dad.”
May you like
Then he smiled without kindness.
“And Mom? He used your house as part of the pitch.”
