Calloway also wanted the true value of the farmhouse explained here, on the property.”
Derek laughed once, without humor.
“The true value? Look around.
The place should be condemned.”
“Parts of it may require substantial repair,” Mr.
Whitaker said.
“The land is another matter.”
He unfolded a survey map.
The original forty acres formed a narrow corridor between a county road and a planned electrical substation.
Eighteen months earlier, a regional utility company had approached Grandma about purchasing a transmission easement across nine acres.
She had declined an immediate sale but negotiated an option that could be exercised by the landowner after her death.
The current offer was $2.4 million.
The remaining acreage would stay with the farmhouse.
Derek stared at the map.
“That offer belongs to the estate.”
“No,” Mr.
Whitaker said.
“The option runs with the land.
Emma became the landowner this morning.”
Madison looked at Derek with naked fury.
“You said it was worthless.”
He ignored her.
“You knew about this?” he asked Mr.
Whitaker.
“I drafted it.”
“And you let me sit there while she walked out with millions?”
“Your grandmother instructed me to follow the documents exactly.
She also predicted you would never examine the farmhouse deed because contempt would make you careless.”
Derek looked at me then.
The mockery was gone.
“Emma,” he said, changing his voice, “we need to talk privately.”
“No.”
“We’re family.”
“You remembered that quickly.”
His jaw tightened.
“You don’t understand any of this.
Grandma was manipulated.
Whitaker set her against us.
That accountant filled her head with accusations.”
Lena turned her computer toward him.
The screen showed a series of emails from Derek’s own account.
In them, he instructed a bank employee to send statements to his address instead of Grandma’s.
Another message asked our mother to make sure I was not allowed inside the farmhouse because I might “get Grandma worked up about the accounts.”
The final email was addressed to Madison.
Once the old woman signs the lake-house transfer, we’re clear.
Keep recording when she gets upset.
It makes her look incompetent.
Madison began to cry.
“You told me those recordings were for her doctor.”
Derek rounded on her.
“Don’t start.”
That command ended any instinct she had to protect him.
She unlocked her phone.
“I have everything,” she told Lena.
“He made me save the videos to a private account.
