Chapter 4 - THE PRICE OF KEEPING QUIET
“Monday?”
My voice sounded strange even to me.
Ruth nodded.
“The transaction isn't approved. But somebody has been preparing for it.”
I stared at the proposed closing date.
Three days.
Three days before a property worth millions could become the center of a legal battle.
And I was lying in a hospital bed with staples near my scalp.
“What exactly are they selling?”
“The preliminary proposal concerns the construction yard and adjacent storage property. Southbank wants to acquire both.”
“No.”
I said it so sharply that pain flashed behind my eyes.
Ruth immediately lowered the folder.
“Nora, your doctor was clear about stress.”
“Grandpa built that yard.”
“I know.”
“He mortgaged his first house to buy it. He worked there until he was seventy-eight.”
“I remember.”
My grandfather, Walter Hale, used to tell me that a construction company wasn't measured by the buildings it finished.
It was measured by how many workers came home safely afterward.
He kept a silver pocket watch in his vest.
Whenever a project ran late, he'd take it out and say, “Money can be earned again, Nora. Time can't.”
After he died, the watch became mine.
I had been wearing it on Sunday.
I remembered it slipping from my pocket when Keith shoved me.
Mom had picked it up.
I hadn't seen it since.
Ruth closed the folder.
“We're asking the court for emergency protection against any unauthorized transfer. Helen has also instructed the company bank not to rely on the disputed proxy.”
“Will that stop them?”
“It gives us a way to challenge what they're attempting. It doesn't solve the underlying financial problem.”
“What financial problem?”
Ruth hesitated.
Then she told me.
Hale Construction had borrowed heavily during the previous year.
Some borrowing had been legitimate.
Two large projects had suffered weather delays, and a major customer had paid nearly ninety days late.
But Leah had found numerous smaller financial commitments arranged by Keith.
Individually, they appeared to fall within his management authority.
Together, they placed the company under enormous pressure.
“One lender is threatening default,” Ruth explained.
“And Southbank is waiting to buy our property cheaply.”
“That's what we're investigating.”
I thought of Keith standing in my grandfather's dining room.
Sign the proxy, Nora. Just sign it.
He hadn't wanted my cooperation.
He'd wanted my signature before I discovered how bad things had become.
Around noon, a hospital patient advocate came to my room.
She introduced herself as Sandra.
“Your brother and mother have asked to visit,” she explained.
My chest tightened.
“Did you tell them no?”
“I told them visits require your approval.”
I considered refusing.
Then I remembered something.
Mom had been present when Keith pushed me.
Adam had witnessed it too.
If anyone could explain what happened Sunday, it was them.
“I'll see Mom,” I said. “Only Mom. With Sandra present.”
Twenty minutes later, my mother entered.
She looked older than she had five days earlier.
Her expensive cream sweater was wrinkled. Her lipstick had worn away.
For several seconds, she simply stared at my bandaged head.
“Nora,” she whispered.
I waited.
She pulled a chair closer.
“Keith told me the surgery wasn't serious.”
I almost couldn't believe what I was hearing.
“Mom, someone operated on my brain.”
“I know that now.”
“You watched me hit my head.”
Her eyes filled.
“He barely pushed you.”
There it was again.
The same excuse.
The same refusal to acknowledge what her own eyes had seen.
I turned away.
“Did you come here to apologize or to explain why you need my signature?”
Mom stiffened.
“Your brother is trying to save the company.”
“From what he did to it?”
“You don't understand how bad things have become.”
“Then tell me.”
She looked toward Sandra.
Then back at me.
“Keith made mistakes. But he wasn't stealing for himself. He was borrowing from one account to keep another project alive.”
“That's not how accounting works, Mom.”
“He thought he could fix it.”
“And Adam?”
She looked startled.
“What about Adam?”
“He approved equipment deliveries.”
My mother's expression changed.
For the first time, she appeared genuinely confused.
“Adam told us he was only helping negotiate financing.”
I watched her carefully.
“You didn't know?”
She shook her head.
Then she said something I had never expected.
“Adam told Keith that if you refused the proxy, the lender could force us to close.”
“Which lender?”
“Ridgeway Finance.”
Ruth, who had remained near the window, lifted her head.
“Did Ridgeway tell you that directly?”
“No. Adam handled those conversations.”
A terrible possibility began forming in my mind.
What if Keith wasn't the only person hiding something?
What if Adam had been controlling the information everyone received?
Mom opened her handbag.
She removed a folded notice.
“Ridgeway sent this yesterday.”
Ruth took it.
Her eyes moved down the page.
Then she stopped.
“Nora,” she said, “this isn't simply a demand for repayment.”
“What is it?”
“It's a notice concerning a purchase option that could be exercised following a default.”
I stared at her.
“An option on what?”
Ruth looked toward my mother.
May you like
Then she answered.
“Your grandfather's construction yard. And someone has already signed an agreement giving Southbank the opportunity to buy it.”
