But the source and use of the funds needed clarification.
I left the meeting exhausted.
When I returned home, Mom was waiting outside.
She stood beside my driveway wearing a beige coat.
For a moment, I considered driving past.
Then I stopped.
I stepped out of the car.
She looked tired.
Older than I'd ever seen her.
"Nia, please."
I folded my arms.
"What do you want?"
"To talk."
I stared at her.
"Then talk."
She glanced toward the house.
"Can we go inside?"
Her face tightened.
"You're really going to treat me like a stranger?"
I felt anger rise.
"You told me to eat in the bathroom in front of seventy people."
She looked away.
"That was a mistake."
I shook my head.
"No. A mistake is forgetting someone's birthday. You deliberately humiliated me."
Her eyes filled.
"I was angry."
She hesitated.
Then she whispered, "Because you wouldn't help me."
I stared at her.
"Help you with what?"
"The project."
I took a breath.
"Mom, you asked me to invest money without providing financial statements."
"I needed you to trust me."
"You wanted me to hand over half a million dollars."
She began crying.
"I was trying to protect the family."
I felt my chest tighten.
"By hiding Dad's property?"
She froze.
Then she looked at me.
"Who told you about that?"
I almost laughed.
"The records."
Her face went pale.
I continued.
"Why did you tell us the building was sold?"
She looked down.
"Because I thought it would be easier."
"Easier for whom?"
She didn't answer.
I stepped closer.
"Mom, that property belonged to a trust Dad established for us."
Her eyes filled.
"I managed it."
"Then why didn't you provide an accounting?"
She covered her face.
"I made mistakes."
I took a breath.
"What mistakes?"
She began sobbing.
"I trusted Gerald."
I stared at her.
"What did he do?"
"He told me the building could support bigger investments. He said we could multiply the money."
My stomach tightened.
"I agreed to transfer funds into several projects."
"Without telling us?"
She nodded.
I closed my eyes.
She reached for me.
I stepped back.
She froze.
I continued.
"Did you know about the promissory note with Dad's signature?"
Her face changed.
"What note?"
I described it.
She stared at me.
Then she whispered, "Gerald told me that document was from your father's old records."
My stomach turned.
"Mom, it was dated after Dad died."
Her face went completely pale.
For several seconds, she didn't move.
Then she shook her head.
I watched her.
She looked genuinely shocked.
But I couldn't know whether she was telling the truth.
I took a breath.
"Mom, you need to tell Angela everything."
She began crying harder.
"I can't."
She looked toward the street.
Then she whispered something that made my blood run cold.
"Because Gerald says if I expose him, he'll make sure all three of you lose everything Dad left."
I stared at her.
For the first time, my mother looked less like the woman controlling our family.
And more like someone who had lost control of a scheme she helped create.
But whatever Gerald had threatened, one truth remained.
She had lied to us.
She had hidden the trust.
Her husband gave her an ultimatum she never expected.
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And she had tried to use my company without permission.
Now she would have to decide whether protecting Gerald mattered more than telling her children the truth.
My mother finally agreed to meet Angela.
The meeting took place in a private conference room.
Mom arrived carrying two boxes of documents.
She looked exhausted.
Her short silver hair was neatly styled, but her hands trembled as she placed the boxes on the table.
Angela began carefully.
"Mrs. Carter, before we review anything, I need you to understand that I represent Nia. You should obtain your own independent legal counsel."
Mom nodded.
"I understand."
Angela recommended an attorney who could explain Mom's responsibilities and rights.
We paused the meeting until Mom had arranged appropriate representation.
Two days later, we returned.
This time, Mom brought her attorney, Denise Walker.