Chapter 12 - THE LAST CONVERSATION WITH UNCLE VICTOR
Victor asked to see me.
Not Ethan.
Me.
His lawyer called Lena.
I almost refused.
Then I decided I was tired of hearing Victor through other people.
We met in a private conference room with attorneys present.
No secret deals.
No dramatic parking garage.
Just fluorescent lights and bad coffee.
Victor entered without a tie.
I had never seen him in professional trouble before.
It changed his posture more than his clothes.
“Nora.”
“Why am I here?”
His attorney started.
Victor stopped him.
“I want to explain.”
“No.”
He frowned.
“I don’t want explanation.”
“Then why come?”
“I want answers.”
He sat.
I stayed standing.
“Did Mom tell you to move the knife?”
“Yes.”
“Do you expect me to believe that?”
“I expect you to consider that your mother has lied too.”
“She has.”
That surprised him.
“I know Mom lied.”
I sat.
“She lied about remembering the knife. She lied about Ethan’s paternity. She let me believe Dad might have been killed by someone else.”
Victor watched me carefully.
“But your lies are yours.”
He looked away.
“What happened at 1:11?”
“I arrived.”
“Dad alive?”
“I thought he was dying.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“Yes.”
My stomach tightened.
“He was alive.”
“Barely.”
“Did you call 911?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Caroline was panicking.”
“So?”
“I was trying to understand what happened.”
“How long?”
“A few minutes.”
“Long enough to move a knife upstairs.”
Victor’s mouth tightened.
“Yes.”
“Long enough to wipe it.”
“Yes.”
“Long enough for Mom to wash blood from her hands.”
“I told her to rinse her face.”
“Why?”
“She had blood all over her.”
“Exactly.”
He leaned forward.
“You keep imagining I had some grand plan the moment I walked inside.”
“Did you?”
“No.”
“Then when did you decide to lie?”
His expression changed.
There.
The question.
Not whether.
When.
Victor looked toward his attorney.
The man said nothing.
“After I saw the knife,” Victor said.
“Why?”
“Because I knew what would happen.”
“To who?”
“All of us.”
“That phrase is doing too much work.”
He exhaled.
“Richard was dead or close to dead. Caroline had stabbed him. Ethan was upstairs. I had already argued with Richard earlier. I was Ethan’s biological father.”
“You were afraid police would think you and Mom planned it.”
“Yes.”
“So you framed her instead.”
“I didn’t think of it like that.”
“How did you think of putting the murder weapon under her bed?”
Victor rubbed his forehead.
“I thought police would see a domestic fight.”
“That would help Mom.”
“I know.”
“So?”
Silence.
“You knew Dad was firing you.”
“No.”
“Stop.”
He looked at me.
I pushed the audit copy across the table.
“You accessed the server that held this.”
“I saw financial questions.”
“Dad had outside counsel drafting your termination.”
“I did not see that document.”
“You knew something was coming.”
Victor’s face hardened.
“Richard was trying to destroy me.”
“Because you stole from the company.”
“I moved money into ventures he refused to approve.”
“That is a very expensive way to say stole.”
His lawyer shifted.
Victor ignored him.
“Richard treated Hayes Coastal like his personal kingdom.”
“And you wanted the kingdom.”
“I built half of it.”
“So did Mom.”
He laughed.
“Caroline?”
“Yes.”
“She attended charity lunches.”
“She guaranteed the first construction line with property from Grandpa.”
Victor stopped.
I had found that in the estate records.
He knew I knew.
“She held voting shares.”
“Because Richard gave them to her.”
“Because they were married.”
“Still hers.”
His face tightened.
There it was.
The same entitlement I had heard in men who thought marriage made a woman’s property honorary.
“Did you understand that if Mom was convicted of first-degree murder, her voting rights disappeared?”
Victor said nothing.
“Did you?”
“Yes.”
“Did you understand that if she successfully argued self-defense, she came home and could remove you?”
“Yes.”
“Did that matter when you moved the knife?”
His eyes moved away.
For the first time, he looked old.
“It crossed my mind.”
The room went completely still.
His attorney said, “Victor.”
Too late.
I leaned forward.
“When?”
He rubbed his mouth.
“After I put it under the bed.”
“No.”
“You asked when it crossed my mind.”
“When did you decide to leave it there?”
He stared.
“When I realized Caroline could still control the company.”
There it was.
Not courtroom proof yet.
Not a confession to every act.
But enough for me.
“You sacrificed her.”
His face twisted.
“I thought she’d get twenty years.”
I actually laughed.
It sounded awful.
“You thought?”
“The death recommendation shocked me.”
“Did you correct your lies?”
“No.”
“When she was sentenced?”
“No.”
“First execution warrant?”
He looked down.
“No.”
“Second?”
“No.”
“Last week, standing five minutes from six?”
Victor’s eyes filled.
“No.”
I stood.
“We’re done.”
“Nora.”
I turned.
“I loved Ethan.”
I looked at him.
“Then why tell him his own memory was broken?”
“Because I needed him to stop.”
“To stop what?”
“Pointing at me.”
That answer was the closest thing to honesty Victor had ever given.
I opened the door.
He said, “I never wanted Caroline dead.”
I looked back.
“You just kept choosing everything that made it more likely.”
Outside, Lena’s phone buzzed.
The state attorney’s office had filed a notice.
They would no longer defend the original conviction without a full new evidentiary determination.
The capital judgment was collapsing.
Then came another message.
From the company’s independent counsel.
Victor’s former executive assistant had turned over a box of old records.
Inside was a handwritten note from Richard.
Dated the afternoon of his death.
If Victor returns tonight, do not let him leave with company files.
Beneath it:
I am done protecting my brother from consequences.
My father had finally decided to stop protecting Victor.
He died that night.
May you like
My mother defended herself.
And Victor spent eleven years making sure consequences went to everyone except him.
