PART 6
The statement remained in the attorney’s file until Andrew requested it shortly before his de:ath.
Colin’s final paragraph was written in darker ink than the rest.
Andrew took the money, and that decision belonged to him. But I lied about Westline, hid the debts, used his signature, and convinced him that taking his parents’ savings was the only way to prevent both of us from going to prison. At 1st, I kept him away because I was protecting myself. Later, I begged him to go home because I understood what I had done. He did not take the money for luxury or greed. He believed he was borrowing it for a few months. His decision was wrong, but the disaster began with my deception.
I lowered the pages.
The evidence did not erase what Andrew had done.
But it destroyed the simple story I had believed for 25 years.
The 4th box had my name written across it.
Inside was a wooden case wrapped in a faded blanket.
I opened it and found Robert’s silver watch.
The glass was scratched, and the leather band had worn almost smooth. Its hands had stopped at 4:18.
On the back, Robert had engraved:
For Andrew. Graduation, 1996. We are proud of you. Love, Mom and Dad.
Robert had saved for months to buy that watch.
Andrew had worn it every day.
Beneath it was a photograph of the 3 of us outside Bennett’s Table. Robert had 1 arm around my waist. Andrew stood beside us in a white apron, smiling into the sun.
We had looked so certain that happiness was permanent.
A note rested beneath the photograph.
Dad’s watch stopped the year I left, but I wore it for 14 more years. This photograph stayed in my wallet until the edges almost disappeared. They were the only pieces of home I believed I deserved to keep.
At the bottom of the box lay a thick envelope.
MOM was written across the front.
Lily watched me lift it.
“He wrote it during his final week,” she said. “He asked me to read it after he di:ed.”
“Why?”
“He wanted me to understand that bringing you the key might not make you forgive him.”
I took the envelope home.
Lily returned to her hotel, and I sat in my parked car for nearly 1 hour with Robert’s watch in my lap.
When I finally went upstairs, the sun was setting.
I made tea I did not want and sat at the kitchen table.
Then I opened my son’s final letter.
Mom,
I have begun this letter thousands of times in my head.
I always imagined I would find the right words before I was forced to write them.
I never did.
Now I am dying, and I am running out of time to be a coward.
You believe I took the money.
You are right.
I opened Dad’s safe. I took every envelope, and I left the door hanging open.
I saw his handwriting on each 1. I knew I was taking 18 years of your lives.
Colin had convinced me to invest in Westline Delivery. I believed the company had real contracts, valuable equipment, and a future.
I signed documents I did not understand because I trusted him and wanted to prove I could build something without asking you or Dad for help.
When the truth came out, Westline was nearly worthless.
The contracts were false.
The financial records had been altered.
My signature appeared beneath statements that made me look as guilty as Colin.
He told me we would both be arrested unless we paid the lender before the company was reported.
I believed him.
I should have gone to Dad.
I should have gone to you.
I should have spoken to an attorney instead of trusting the person who had already lied to me.
Instead, I made the decision alone.
That was my 1st terrible mistake.
I told myself I was borrowing the money.
I believed we would sell the trucks, collect unpaid invoices, work for a few months, and return everything before you discovered it was missing.
I was young enough to mistake fear for logic.
After we reached Arizona, Colin kept control of the money.
He paid part of Westline’s debts and took the rest.
I did not discover that until after Dad di:ed.
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