Chapter 6 - CLAIRE FINALLY TELLS THE TRUTH
Claire came to my office alone.
No makeup.
No lawyer.
For the first time in years, she looked like my little sister instead of my parents’ chosen witness.
“You hate me.”
“No.”
She looked surprised.
“I don’t trust you.”
“That’s worse.”
“Probably.”
She sat.
Then said:
“I signed the affidavit draft.”
I stared.
“The incapacity one?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Dad said it was backup.”
“For removing me?”
“He said only if you tried to hurt the company.”
I almost laughed.
“What did you think ‘hurt the company’ meant?”
“I don’t know.”
“You didn’t ask?”
“No.”
There it was.
Family loyalty without questions.
Our oldest tradition.
Then Claire said:
“I lied about the dinner.”
I stayed silent.
“I know.”
“The one where I said you screamed.”
“Yes.”
“Mom knew.”
“I know.”
“She told me to stop telling people.”
“But she backed you anyway.”
Claire cried.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because she said admitting I lied would make me look unstable.”
The irony was almost beautiful.
“So they protected you by calling me unstable.”
She nodded.
I leaned back.
“Why did you lie?”
She wiped her face.
“Because Derek and I were fighting.”
“What does that have to do with me?”
“You had just graduated.”
“You and Ethan looked happy.”
“You’d stopped calling as much.”
“I was angry.”
There was no grand explanation.
Jealousy.
Attention.
Habit.
She invented a story because conflict pulled our parents toward her.
And they came.
Like always.
Then Claire told me something else.
The vineyard trip.
The weekend of my graduation.
She had not asked our parents to come.
“What?”
“I told Mom Derek and I were fighting.”
“She decided we should get away.”
“I said you were graduating.”
My chest tightened.
“What did she say?”
Claire looked ashamed.
“She said you’d understand.”
Of course.
Natalie always understands.
The family motto nobody printed.
“I should have refused.”
“Yes.”
“I didn’t.”
“No.”
She took a breath.
“I’m sorry.”
I believed she was sorry.
That was not the same as trusting her.
“What happens now?”
She asked.
“To Blackridge?”
“To us.”
I thought.
“I don’t know.”
She nodded.
That was the first honest conversation we had had in years.
No instant hug.
No reunion.
May you like
Just the end of pretending.
---
