Chapter 4 - Meridian
Mina Chen brought three banker boxes to the mansion the next morning.
She refused to enter until she knew Vivian was gone.
“She isn’t here,” David said.
“Is she coming back?”
“I don’t know.”
Mina looked at him.
“Then lock the door.”
It was not a joke.
Mina was forty-six, precise, and so controlled that Lily immediately understood why Vivian must have hated her.
They worked at the dining table.
Mina spread out invoices from Meridian Heritage Consulting.
“Same monthly amount for six months. Then larger ‘project advisory’ payments.”
David read them.
“Anna signed these.”
“No.”
Mina pushed one closer.
“Look at the A.”
David did.
Anna’s signature had a distinctive slant.
This one imitated it.
But the final stroke was wrong.
“Forgery?”
“Possibly.”
“Why didn’t you catch it?”
“I did.”
Mina looked toward Lily.
“Your mother did too.”
Lily leaned forward.
“When?”
“Three weeks before she died.”
Mina had shown Anna the invoices.
Anna denied approving them.
They agreed to investigate quietly.
“Why quietly?” David asked.
“Because Vivian controlled operations.”
David’s shame deepened.
He had trusted Vivian enough to let her run the company while Anna’s health deteriorated.
“How did she own Meridian without anyone knowing?”
“Layered LLC.”
Mina pointed to incorporation records.
“Publicly, it belonged to a registered agent. I traced the bank authorization after Anna asked.”
Rachel, sitting beside Lily, said, “And you got fired after Anna died.”
“Thirty-six hours after the funeral.”
David stared.
“I signed that.”
“Yes.”
“Vivian told me you had mishandled payroll taxes.”
“She lied.”
Mina’s voice remained flat.
“I sent you an email explaining that.”
David rubbed his forehead.
“I don’t remember it.”
“I do.”
Mina opened her phone.
She still had the sent message.
David read it.
Subject: PLEASE DO NOT SIGN TERMINATION UNTIL WE SPEAK ABOUT ANNA’S AUDIT.
Sent three days after Anna’s funeral.
“What happened to this?”
“You tell me.”
David searched his archived email.
Nothing.
Then he remembered.
During those weeks, Vivian had been “helping” manage correspondence because he could barely function.
Lily looked at him.
“She deleted it.”
“Maybe.”
Lily started to protest.
Then stopped herself.
“Probably.”
Mina gave her a faint smile.
“Good distinction.”
Lily almost smiled back.
The financial records established clear theft from Anna’s company if the transfers were unauthorized.
But they did not explain the medication.
Mina did have another clue.
“Anna photographed her pill organizer.”
David looked up.
“You saw the pictures?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“On her work tablet.”
David’s pulse jumped.
“The tablet still exists?”
“I don’t know.”
“Vivian took Anna’s company laptop.”
“Different device.”
Mina described a silver tablet Anna used for site photographs.
Lily remembered it.
“Mom kept it in the blue portfolio.”
Rachel turned.
“What blue portfolio?”
“The giant one with fabric samples.”
David stood.
They searched Anna’s studio.
Nothing.
Lily checked the closet.
Nothing.
Then she remembered Vivian cleaning Anna’s belongings months earlier.
“She put boxes in storage.”
David froze.
“Which storage?”
“Dad, you signed the list.”
He had.
A climate-controlled unit held Anna’s professional archives because David could not bear sorting them.
Vivian had arranged everything.
Mina asked, “Who has access?”
David checked.
Two names.
David Bennett.
Vivian Hale.
They drove there with Detective Brooks.
The unit showed no sign of forced entry.
Inside were more than forty boxes.
Fabric books.
Design plans.
Awards.
Anna’s old drafting tools.
Lily found the blue portfolio behind a framed hotel rendering.
The silver tablet was inside.
Battery dead.
Screen intact.
Detective Brooks bagged it rather than turning it on.
“Forensics first.”
Lily was learning patience the hard way.
Before they left, Rachel noticed one box sitting apart.
ANNA — MEDICAL.
David stared.
“I didn’t pack that.”
Lily knelt.
Inside were prescription receipts.
Appointment notes.
Insurance forms.
And photographs printed on ordinary paper.
Anna’s pill organizer.
Monday.
Tuesday.
Wednesday.
Each compartment photographed from above.
The final image was dated the morning of her collapse.
Three white tablets.
One yellow.
One small blue oval.
Mina looked at David.
“Was the blue one prescribed?”
“I don’t know.”
Detective Brooks photographed it.
At the bottom of the box was a handwritten note.
Blue tablet appeared after V reorganized medications. Asked her. She says Dr. Patel added it. Call Patel tomorrow.
Anna never made that call.
Detective Brooks did.
Dr. Patel answered within an hour.
He had never prescribed Anna a blue tablet.
And whatever Vivian had given her was no longer just a frightened woman’s memory on an old recorder.
May you like
Anna had documented it herself before she died.
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