The silence that followed was deafening. Leo’s face didn’t immediately fall. On the contrary, he seemed confused, his small hands trembling at his sides. « Grandma? » he murmured. « You… you had something for me? »
Evelyn feigned a gasp, her hand instinctively going to her throat in a gesture so theatrical it seemed straight out of a soap opera. « Oh, Leo! Darling! I’m so sorry. In the rush to sort everyone’s things out, I simply… forgot. I must be getting old. My memory’s failing me these days! »
She didn’t look sorry. She looked triumphant. It was her way of asserting her dominance, of reminding me, and everyone else, that Leo was at the very bottom of her hierarchy because he resembled my family and shared my « stubborn » temperament.
David started to say something, his face red with anger, but I grabbed his arm. I looked at Evelyn. She met my gaze with a cold, sparkling eye that said, « What are you going to do? »
« It’s okay, Leo, » I said in a strangely calm voice. « Grandma’s memory has been failing her for a long time. Longer than she realizes. »
The party continued, but the atmosphere was ruined. Evelyn spent the rest of the evening sipping chardonnay and complaining about the « quality of the caterer, » blissfully unaware that she had just started a fire she could no longer extinguish.
You see, Evelyn didn’t simply « forget » the birthdays. As a court-appointed accountant, I spot anomalies. For two years, I had noticed irregularities in the annual reports of the family estate—an estate Evelyn had been managing since her husband’s death. Specifically, the trust fund set up for Leo by his grandfather seemed to be stagnating, while the funds intended for his « favorite » grandchildren (my brother-in-law’s children) were thriving.
I’ve spent the last six months working through sleepless nights investigating. I haven’t just found « errors. » I’ve uncovered a masterpiece of financial fraud.
Once the guests had left and Leo was in bed (after I’d given him the mountain of gifts David and I had bought him), I went to my office. I didn’t cry. I didn’t shout. I simply opened a file on my desk titled « Evelyn’s Audit. »
Inside was a 40-page PDF file. It contained:
Bank statements show that $50,000 was diverted from Leo’s trust fund to a private offshore account.
Receipts for a new Lexus registered in her brother-in-law’s name, paid for with « administrative fees » taken from the family estate.
A series of recorded voicemails (legal in our state) where she boasted to her sister about having « cut the fat » from Leo’s future to ensure the « right heirs » were taken care of.
At 11:42 p.m., I opened the family group chat—the one that connects all 32 members of the extended clan, from wealthy cousins in Seattle to gossipy aunts in Florida.
Subject: Re: Leo’s Birthday / Family Heritage Update
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