Chapter 6 - The Unraveling of a Tyrant
The revelation of Grandma Eleanor’s trust detonated whatever remaining composure my parents possessed. Dad lunged forward against the table, his eyes wild, veins bulging against his neck.
""Three hundred and fifty thousand dollars?!"" he roared, his voice cracking into a panicked shriek. ""Dad, that is family money! That land belonged to the Crowder name! You let Ma give away our entire inheritance to an eighteen-year-old girl while we are drowning in credit card debt?!""
The words slipped out before Dad could stop them, but once they hit the open air, their toxicity contaminated the entire room.
Aunt Linda gasped. ""Credit card debt? Richard, what are you talking about?""
Uncle Joe leaned across the table, his jaw clenched tightly. ""Richard, last month at Mom’s memorial service, you told me your contracting business was thriving. You said you were funding Trevor's camps out of your business profits!""
Trevor gave another bitter, self-loathing snort. He wiped his nose on his sleeve and looked at his uncle. ""Tell them, Dad. Tell Uncle Joe about the second mortgage on the house. Tell them about the seventy-thousand-dollar home equity loan you took out in July to pay for that private quarterback guru from California.""
Mom let out a strangled shriek. ""Trevor, be quiet! That is private family business!""
""It isn't private anymore, Brenda!"" Mrs. Henderson snapped, her voice cutting through the panic like cold steel. ""You sat in my church pew three weeks ago and told everyone you were sacrificing your daughter’s college fund because you were 'practical, humble folks who believed in honest labor.' You didn't sacrifice Rosella because you were practical—you sacrificed her because you were reckless gamblers who bet the farm on a boy who never wanted to play the game!""
Dad looked trapped, cornered by his own relatives, his deceit laid bare in front of the very people he had spent years trying to impress.
""I did it for his future!"" Dad shouted defensively, his hands flailing. ""An NFL contract is worth tens of millions! A girl going to college is just an expense! She would've gotten married, had babies, and forgotten all about some damn engineering degree! A boy carries the family name! Trevor was supposed to put us on the map!""
""And what did you do to Trevor in the process?"" Uncle Joe demanded, rising from his seat and walking directly up to Dad. Uncle Joe was broader than Dad, a former Marine who had never tolerated Richard’s bluster. He pointed a thick, calloused finger right into Dad’s chest.
""You broke the boy,"" Joe snarled. ""Look at him! He's eighteen years old, having panic attacks at the Thanksgiving dinner table because his father turned him into a personal investment portfolio! You didn't love Trevor's talent, Richard. You loved the reflection of yourself you saw in his helmet! And you treated your daughter—the smartest person to ever bear our last name—like unwanted trash!""
""Get out,"" Dad hissed, his eyes darting wildly. ""This is my house! You get out of my house!""
""No, Richard,"" Grandpa Dale said, his voice eerily calm as he tucked Grandma Eleanor’s legal papers back into his coat. ""You don't get to kick anyone out. Eleanor owned sixty percent of this property’s deed from her father’s estate. Under the terms of her will, my signature is required on any lease, mortgage, or transfer. That second mortgage you took out? Arthur Pendelton has already flagged it as an illegal encumbrance because you forged my power of attorney while Eleanor was in hospice.""
Dad went utterly, terrifyingly white. The blood drained from his cheeks until he looked like a corpse standing under the dining room chandelier.
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""You... you knew?"" Dad whispered, his voice trembling with genuine terror.
""I’ve known since August,"" Grandpa Dale said, his gaze as unyielding as granite. ""Arthur and I were waiting until Rosella’s applications were decided so that nothing you did could jeopardize her academic standing. The bank has already initiated a formal fraud inquiry, Richard. You aren't just broke. You are staring down the barrel of a criminal indictment.""
