Chapter 5 - Howard’s SecretNobody spoke for several seconds.
Howard looked at Marlene.
“You have no right.”
Beverly appeared behind him.
“No right to say what?”
Howard closed his eyes.
Peter felt the ground shift beneath him again.
“Dad?”
Howard stepped onto the porch.
“Inside.”
Marlene shook her head.
“I’m not welcome.”
Howard looked at Peter.
“She should be there for this.”
Beverly’s expression hardened.
Peter had seen his mother angry many times.
He had never seen her frightened.
They gathered in the dining room.
Ivy stayed upstairs with Andi.
Howard stood at the head of the table but did not sit.
“In 2018, I owed money.”
Beverly stared at him.
“What money?”
“Business debt.”
Howard had owned a small commercial electrical company before retirement.
Peter remembered the recession years, missed vacations, quiet arguments.
“How much?” Peter asked.
“Eventually? Almost four hundred thousand.”
Beverly whispered, “Howard.”
“I protected you from it.”
“You lied to me.”
“Yes.”
Peter already knew where this was going.
“Vale.”
Howard nodded.
“Richard offered contracts. Then loans. Then favors.”
“What favors?”
“Information.”
Peter’s stomach turned.
“What information?”
“About Natalie.”
Beverly stood.
Howard raised a hand.
“I never understood what he was really doing.”
“You gave a developer information about your daughter-in-law’s property?”
“I told him when she traveled. Whether she was considering selling. Whether you two were having financial problems.”
Peter stared at his father.
“You discussed my marriage with him?”
“I was desperate.”
“And he reduced your debt?”
“Yes.”
Marlene sat silently.
Peter turned toward her.
“You knew.”
“I suspected.”
“How?”
“Vale mentioned having a family source.”
Howard sank into a chair.
“I stopped in 2019.”
“Why?”
“Because Natalie confronted me.”
Peter’s breath caught.
“She knew?”
Howard nodded.
“She showed me copies of Vale’s payments. She told me if I gave him anything else, she would tell you.”
Peter looked at his father differently.
Not as the man who taught him to drive.
Not as the grandfather who built Ivy a treehouse.
As someone who had betrayed Natalie.
“What happened next?”
“I stopped.”
“Did Vale?”
“No.”
Howard wiped his eyes.
“Then Natalie died.”
Natalie’s death had been simple.
Or Peter had always believed it was simple.
A pulmonary embolism following an undiagnosed clot.
She collapsed at work.
Doctors tried for forty-seven minutes.
Peter had read every page of her medical record.
There was no mystery.
He refused to manufacture one now.
“Her death was medical,” he said firmly.
Marlene nodded.
“Yes.”
Peter looked at her.
“You’re sure?”
“Richard is corrupt. He is not a murderer.”
The distinction mattered.
Peter appreciated it despite himself.
Howard continued.
“After Natalie died, Richard contacted me again. I refused.”
“Then why did he keep pursuing Bluebird?”
“Because he believed the trust documents could be challenged.”
Marlene said, “Natalie had transferred the land correctly. But the trust required a successor trustee if Peter did not know it existed.”
Peter frowned.
“Who?”
Howard looked at him.
“Me.”
The room became silent.
Peter laughed once.
“You?”
“Natalie changed it later.”
“To whom?”
“I don’t know.”
Marlene leaned forward.
“That is what Richard has been trying to discover.”
Peter understood.
If Ivy’s trust held valuable land, control of the trust mattered almost as much as ownership.
“Could Marlene be trustee?”
Howard shook his head.
“Not from the documents I saw.”
Peter looked at his wife.
“Did you marry me hoping to control Ivy’s trust?”
Marlene’s face tightened.
“No.”
“Then how did you end up in my life?”
Marlene looked toward Beverly.
“I met Peter at a hospital fundraiser.”
Peter remembered.
She had been volunteering with a children’s housing charity.
At least he thought she had been.
Marlene said, “I knew who he was.”
Peter closed his eyes.
There it was.
“I recognized his name.”
“You approached me deliberately.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I wanted to know whether Natalie had told you anything.”
Beverly muttered, “Lord.”
Marlene continued quickly.
“I intended one conversation. Maybe two.”
“But you dated me.”
“Yes.”
“You met my daughter.”
“Yes.”
“You married me.”
Her eyes filled.
“Yes.”
“And every day you chose not to tell me.”
“Yes.”
Peter leaned against the table.
The woman he had slept beside for three years suddenly felt like a stranger assembled from familiar pieces.
“Did you ever love me?”
Marlene answered immediately.
“Yes.”
“That makes it worse.”
“I know.”
Peter looked away.
His phone buzzed.
A message from Blair upstairs.
IVY CAN HEAR YOU.
Peter stood instantly.
He found Ivy sitting halfway down the staircase.
The same posture as that morning.
Her eyes were wet.
“Daddy?”
Peter sat two steps below her.
“How much did you hear?”
“Did Marlene know Mom?”
Peter did not lie.
“Yes.”
Ivy looked past him.
Marlene stood at the bottom of the stairs.
Ivy’s voice became small.
“Did you hate my mom?”
Marlene looked devastated.
“No.”
“You threw her things away.”
“Yes.”
“You said remembering her made Daddy sad.”
Marlene covered her mouth.
Ivy continued.
“You said I should stop talking about her because we were a new family.”
Peter turned toward Marlene.
She whispered, “I thought—”
“No,” Ivy said.
Everyone went silent.
The child descended one stair.
“You thought if Mom disappeared from the house, I would disappear too.”
Marlene began crying.
Peter expected Ivy to look satisfied.
She did not.
She looked tired.
Then she reached into her pajama pocket.
“I found something else in Mom’s ornament box.”
She handed Peter a tiny memory card.
Marlene stared.
Howard whispered, “What is that?”
Ivy answered.
“It was taped under Mom’s picture.”
Peter inserted it into Blair’s laptop.
There was only one video.
Recorded March 3, 2020.
Eight days before Natalie died.
Natalie appeared on screen.
And beside her sat Marlene.
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Not enemies.
Holding hands.
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