Chapter 5 - The Ashes of Hawthorne HouseThree weeks later, I stood in the cavernous, empty living room of the Beacon Hill mansion where Evelyn and Grant had lived before their world came crashing down.
The house was currently under federal asset seizure, scheduled for public auction to satisfy the millions in restitution owed to creditors and victims of the financial fraud scheme Grant had been running behind my back.
Boxes were piled high near the foyer. Movers in blue overalls were carrying out antique armoires, Persian rugs, and crystal chandeliers that Evelyn had spent decades collecting to prove her superiority to the world.
Footsteps echoed softly behind me on the hardwood floor.
I turned around.
Paige stood near the doorway, looking pale, fragile, and ten years older than her age. Her hair was short, dyed back to its natural brown, and she wore a plain black sweater without a single piece of jewelry. Surviving severe thallium poisoning had left her vocal cords permanently raspy and her kidneys compromised, requiring months of grueling dialysis and medical rehabilitation.
“The movers are taking the last of Mom’s bedroom suite,” Paige said quietly, her eyes cast down at the floor. She didn't look at me. She couldn't. The shame was too heavy to carry.
“Let them,” I replied evenly.
Paige swallowed hard, gripping the sleeve of her sweater. “Mom is... she’s still in the rehabilitation clinic in Brookline. She refuses to speak to anyone. She keeps asking when Grant is coming home to fix this.”
“Grant isn't coming home, Paige,” I said without malice. “He’s currently awaiting trial in a federal holding facility in Plymouth. His lawyers offered a plea deal: twenty-five years without parole in exchange for pleading guilty to attempted murder, corporate embezzlement, and wire fraud.”
Paige let out a bitter, shaky laugh. “Twenty-five years. He used to complain about sitting through a two-hour board meeting.”
She paused, looking up at me with eyes swimming in unshed tears.
“Nora... I’m sorry,” she whispered, the words sounding foreign and painful on her tongue. “I know I was awful to you. I knew what Mom was doing, and I went along with it because... because it was easier than standing up to her. But I never... I swear to God, I never knew he was going to try to kill you.”
I looked at my former sister-in-law, studying the broken remnants of the family that had tried to consume me.
“I know you didn't, Paige,” I said softly. “You were just a pawn in a game you weren't smart enough to understand. But your debt to society and your family is yours to carry now. I’m moving on.”
“What about Whitfield Meridian Group?” Paige asked, her voice trembling. “Are you going to sell it?”
“No,” I said, walking toward the grand double doors of the foyer. “I’m going to make it stronger than it has ever been.”
May you like
I stopped at the threshold, looking back one last time at the echoing, empty house.
“Goodbye, Paige.”
