Chapter 8 - THE HOUSE WE GREW UP IN
Police reached my parents' house in eleven minutes.
We arrived in fourteen.
Alexander drove.
Sophie sat beside me gripping my hand.
The house looked exactly as it had throughout our childhood.
White columns.
Black shutters.
Perfect lawn.
From the outside, the Hart family still looked beautiful.
I wondered how many families were like that.
Beautiful from the street.
Bruised behind the doors.
Officers stopped us at the driveway.
Dad had locked himself inside.
Mom was believed to be with him.
“No confirmed weapon,” an officer explained. “But given the circumstances, we aren't taking chances.”
Sophie started forward.
I caught her.
“Don't.”
“Mom's inside.”
“I know.”
For forty minutes, negotiators called.
No answer.
Then the front door opened.
Mom walked out.
Alone.
She wasn't running.
She walked slowly down the steps carrying a cardboard box.
Officers rushed toward her.
I followed.
“Mom!”
She looked at me.
Then Sophie.
And smiled.
“I should have done that thirty years ago.”
I hugged her.
It was the first time I could remember her hugging me back without immediately pulling away to attend to someone else.
“Where's Dad?”
“Gone.”
Police entered the house.
Dad had escaped through the rear garage before they arrived.
Mom handed me the box.
“What is this?”
“Everything.”
Inside were ledgers.
Phones.
USB drives.
Documents.
Dad had kept records of his hidden transactions for years.
“Why did he leave these?”
“He didn't.”
For the first time, Mom looked almost mischievous.
“I took them.”
Sophie stared.
“Mom.”
“He spent thirty-seven years believing I was too stupid to understand his business.”
She looked at the box.
“He was wrong about all of us.”
That night, the evidence went to investigators.
By morning, Dad was officially a fugitive.
For three days, nobody knew where he was.
Hart Development's stock plunged.
Employees panicked.
Clients threatened to leave.
The board wanted an interim CEO.
To my horror, they wanted me.
“I don't run companies,” I told Alexander.
We were lying in bed at 1:00 a.m., surrounded by financial reports.
“You've been running everybody else's life since you were twelve.”
“That's not the same.”
“No. This comes with a salary.”
I threw a pillow at him.
He caught it.
Then became serious.
“What are you afraid of?”
“Becoming him.”
“You won't.”
“How do you know?”
“Because you're afraid of becoming him.”
I considered that.
The next morning, I accepted.
Temporarily.
My first decision as interim CEO was to freeze executive bonuses.
My second was to guarantee payroll for every hourly employee.
My third was to commission an independent forensic audit of everything.
Not just Dad.
Everything.
If I was going to save Grandma's company, I wasn't going to protect its secrets.
Three weeks passed.
Then six.
Dad remained missing.
Slowly, Hart Development stabilized.
Richard Bennett agreed to reconsider a smaller partnership—not the merger.
Tyler and Sophie began counseling.
Not reconciliation.
Counseling.
I respected that.
Sophie moved into an apartment.
For the first time in her life, she paid her own rent.
She called me after receiving her first electric bill.
“Clara.”
“What?”
“Electricity costs this much?”
I laughed so hard I had to sit down.
She hung up on me.
Then called back five minutes later to ask how thermostats worked.
Progress wasn't always glamorous.
Mom filed for divorce.
Daniel became a cooperating witness.
And Alexander continued being Alexander.
He never asked me to choose between my new responsibilities and our marriage.
He simply started bringing dinner to the office.
One rainy Thursday, two months after the wedding, he arrived carrying Chinese takeout.
“You're late,” I said.
“Romantic.”
“I'm serious.”
“So am I.”
He kissed me.
My assistant knocked.
“Clara?”
“Yes?”
She looked nervous.
“There's someone downstairs asking for you.”
“Who?”
She handed me a security photograph.
My blood went cold.
Dad.
He stood in the lobby.
Unshaven.
Thinner.
Alone.
Alexander looked at the photograph.
“Security?”
“Already there.”
I stared at Dad's face.
“What's he doing?”
My assistant swallowed.
“He says he wants to surrender.”
I almost laughed.
“Then why come here?”
“He said there's something he needs to tell you first.”
“What?”
She hesitated.
“He says someone else stole the money.”
I stared at her.
May you like
Then she added:
“And he says that person is still inside Hart Development.”
