They Erased Me. I Owned Their Empire Chapter 06

There were forty-three transfers.

Two point three million dollars.

Money from the renovation fund. Money that was supposed to fix the roof of the Back Bay property. Money that was

supposed to pay for new beds in rooms where real people slept.

My money, technically. Fifty-one percent of it.

For our future.

I read Theo’s email again. At the bottom, one more line.

BG Holdings was registered two years ago. The registered address is Bianca’s apartment. The second signer is Grant.

Wren, I’m so sorry. I should have looked sooner. I should have looked at a lot of things sooner.

I didn’t cry. I called a lawyer.

Joan Stavros was sixty-two, from South Boston, and spoke like each sentence cost her money.

“Embezzlement from a company where you’re majority owner,” she said. “With a memo line full of hearts.” A dry pause.

“These people are idiots. I love idiots. Idiots are fast.”

“There’s an emergency board meeting in nine days.”

“Then we’ll have them by day eight.”

That evening, Callum showed up at six exactly with tomato soup and grilled cheese. He set them on my coffee table.

He didn’t try to come further than the living room.

“How do you take it?” he asked, holding up a box of crackers. “In, or on the side?”

I stared at him.

“It’s a cracker question, Wren. Not a test.”

“Nobody asks,” I said. “In. Always in.”

“In.” He said it like he was writing it down somewhere.

We went through Theo’s spreadsheet together. He found three transfers I’d missed. I found the pattern he hadn’t. We

ate soup out of the containers. At some point I realized I’d taken off my shoes and tucked my feet under me without

thinking.

At nine, my father called.

From his office line. He knew I’d blocked his cell.

“Wren.”

“Dad.”

“Your mother hasn’t stopped crying since Christmas Eve.” No hello. No are you safe. “Bianca’s getting threats online.

Because of your little letter.”

“Strangers are sending threats to me too. Because of her little post.”

“That’s different. You started this.”

“I didn’t start anything. I just stopped hiding.”

“Listen to me.” His voice dropped into the tone I knew from childhood. The one that meant you have disappointed us again. “If you go after your sister at that board meeting, if you humiliate her one more time, don’t come home. You won’t be my daughter anymore.”

I sat very still.

Sixteen years ago, that would have shattered me.

“Dad,” I said quietly. “Can I ask you something?”

Silence.

“When’s my birthday?”

“What?”

“My birthday. The date. You know it. You were there.”

He didn’t answer.

I could hear him breathing. I could hear him thinking. I could hear the exact moment he understood.

“It was Christmas Eve,” I said. “It’s always been Christmas Eve. You stopped saying it the year Bianca came. You threw

her a party on my birthday for sixteen years and gave me a slice of her cake.”

Nothing.

“I stopped being your daughter a long time ago, Dad. You just never sent me the card.”

I hung up.

Callum didn’t say anything. He just slid the last grilled cheese across the table to me.

I ate it. It was cold. It was perfect.

At six the next morning, he called. His voice was flat. Careful.

“Wren. I need you at the office.”

“What happened?”

“Bianca’s lawyer filed overnight. They’re contesting your shares.” A pause. “They’re claiming you bought Northgate’s stake with money you embezzled from Calloway Hotels when you worked in accounting at twenty-two.”

My stomach dropped.

“They have a wire transfer,” he said. “Two hundred thousand dollars. From the company to you.”

“I never-”

“I know.” Another pause. “It has your signature on it.”