Chapter 5 - WHY MY MOTHER HATED MATTHEW
The question that mattered most was not Aster.
It was Matthew.
“Why him?”
My mother looked at me.
“What?”
“Why do you hate my son?”
“I don’t.”
“You hit him.”
“He grabbed Dylan.”
“He touched a toy.”
“He’s disrespectful.”
“You lock him in the pantry.”
Her face changed.
Valerie had told me.
Good.
“You had no right to question him about Julian.”
I stared.
“What questions?”
Silence.
Then I understood.
Matthew had not simply been talking about his father.
My mother had been interrogating a six-year-old.
“What did you ask him?”
Nothing.
“Mom.”
She finally snapped.
“Julian told that child things.”
“Such as?”
“The car. The number. The door.”
Matthew remembered clues.
Maybe Julian made games out of them.
Treasure hunts.
Kids remember strange things.
My mother had realized he might lead me back to the documents.
“So you scared him.”
“I was trying to stop him from obsessing over a dead man.”
“No.”
My voice went quiet.
“You were trying to stop him from leading me to evidence.”
She looked away.
Then I asked the worst question.
“What happened at Christmas with Robert?”
Valerie answered from the doorway.
She had followed us.
“Matthew found Dad’s copy of the Aster assignment.”
I stared.
“Robert grabbed him.”
“Yes.”
“Hard enough to bruise.”
“Yes.”
Valerie cried.
“I stopped him.”
“After?”
“Yes.”
Again.
Too late.
My mother shouted:
“Everything we did was to protect this family.”
I laughed.
“From what?”
“You.”
That stunned me.
She continued.
“Do you think I didn’t know you were building something?”
My heartbeat slowed.
“You knew about Arden?”
“Not the valuation.”
“But you knew.”
“Enough.”
“How?”
“Julian.”
Of course.
“He told Dad when he needed the assignment confirmed for investors.”
That would have been years ago.
Before Dad died.
My family knew I might build something important.
They just never knew how far it went.
“Why pretend I was broke?”
Mother looked almost offended.
“You pretended.”
True.
I did.
I let them believe consulting work barely supported me after Julian died.
I wanted to see whether they would finally care without money involved.
They did not.
But apparently they knew enough to fear the possibility.
Then Mother said:
“Your father believed Arden should eventually return to Bennett control.”
“No.”
“It was built from Aster.”
“Which he assigned.”
“To Julian.”
“And then to me.”
Her face hardened.
“You think contracts erase family?”
There.
The same entitlement.
“Contracts protect people from family members who think love overrides ownership.”
She slapped the desk.
“Your father built everything!”
“And then made a deal.”
“He regretted it!”
“Regret is not ownership.”
Silence.
Valerie whispered:
“Clara.”
I turned.
“There’s more.”
Of course.
“Robert has been using Bennett Dynamics money.”
“How much?”
“Millions.”
Mother shouted:
“Stop.”
Valerie flinched.
I noticed.
Adult woman.
Still reacting to Mom like a child.
“Keep talking.”
Valerie swallowed.
Bennett Dynamics had been struggling since Dad died.
Robert hid losses.
Borrowed heavily.
Used company funds for personal investments.
Then discovered Arden might be worth billions.
His plan?
Challenge the Aster assignment.
Claim Julian stole IP.
Force settlement.
Even a 10 percent claim against Arden could save Bennett Dynamics and Robert personally.
My mother knew.
Supported it.
“What did you expect me to do?”
Mother said:
“Help your family.”
I almost laughed.
“I would have.”
She froze.
“What?”
“If Robert came to me honestly three years ago and said Bennett Dynamics was in trouble, I might have invested.”
Silence.
“But none of you asked.”
My voice cracked.
“You lied. Scared my child. Hid evidence. Called Julian a thief.”
Mother's face crumbled.
“Because we knew you'd say no.”
“You never gave me the chance.”
That was the family disease.
They predicted my answer.
Then treated the predicted answer as permission.
Same as locking Matthew away until he stopped asking questions.
Control first.
May you like
Truth later.
Maybe never.
