“You left it in a box in our garage,” I said.
“Along with tax records, old office files, and the rest of the things you said were not worth collecting.”
“That was my property.”
“Then you should be relieved your son returned it.”
A few people near the back table looked down to hide their reactions.
Ethan’s face darkened.
“Turn off the screen.”
The club’s audiovisual technician stood beside the control panel.
He looked at Daniel before touching anything.
Daniel shook his head.
“Leave it on.”
Lila stared at the message behind Ethan.
“You told me the bonus was delayed.”
“It was.”
“This says you moved it before mediation.”
“Because Claire’s lawyer was trying to take everything from me.”
Rebecca opened another section of the folder.
“The family court requested complete disclosure of income earned during the relevant period.
Moving money to an undisclosed account after that request can carry serious consequences.”
“Allegedly,” Ethan snapped.
“Yes,” Rebecca said.
“That is why the court ordered an examination instead of relying on your explanation.”
Ethan turned to me with the expression he used during our marriage whenever he wanted me to doubt my own memory.
“You planned this.
You brought our son here to stage an attack.”
I looked at Noah.
His shoulders were tense beneath his navy blazer.
He was ten years old, standing in a ballroom full of adults who had laughed when his father called his life a mistake.
“I planned to leave quietly,” I said.
“Noah chose to give you the phone after your speech.”
Ethan’s eyes narrowed at him.
“You should have stayed out of adult business.”
Noah lifted his chin.
“You kept saying Mom was lying about why you left.
I wanted to know which one of you was telling the truth.”
The room became painfully still.
Ethan looked around, searching for sympathy.
“He’s a child.
He doesn’t understand what he’s saying.”
“I understand that you missed my concert,” Noah replied.
“I understand that Mom waited for money you said you already sent.
And I understand that you called us trash.”
A woman at the nearest table set down her champagne glass.
She had laughed during Ethan’s speech.
Now she looked ashamed.
Ethan loosened his collar.
“This wedding is over.
Everyone needs to leave.”
Daniel did not sit down.
“Not yet.”
The words carried more authority than Ethan’s shout.
Daniel walked toward the screen.
He was in his sixties, silver-haired, calm, and visibly furious.
“Rebecca,” he said, “does the extraction contain communications involving Caldwell Mercer accounts?”
“The report identifies several messages referencing client retainers and internal billing codes,” she answered.
