“That’s ridiculous!”
“Then you’ll have an opportunity to respond through the appropriate channels.”
His eyes moved nervously toward my mother.
I noticed the exchange.
“Mom,” I asked, “would you like to explain the email Ethan sent you last month?”
Her face turned pale.
“Claire, please.”
Vanessa looked confused.
“What email?”
I turned toward her.
“Your husband asked Mom to persuade me to stop the compliance review.”
Ethan immediately objected.
“That’s not true!”
I opened a saved message.
“Then perhaps you’d like to explain why you wrote that family should protect family and that the investigation should quietly disappear.”
Vanessa stared at him.
“Ethan?”
He said nothing.
Grandma slowly closed her eyes.
Dad looked furious.
“Were you reading private messages?”
“Mom forwarded the email to me herself when she asked me to intervene.”
My mother began crying.
“I just wanted everyone to stay together.”
I looked at her sadly.
“You wanted to protect the person with the impressive job title.”
Ethan stepped forward.
“You don’t understand what you’re talking about.”
I remained calm.
“Then explain the consulting payments associated with Northstar Surgical Supply.”
He hesitated.
The independent review had identified payments requiring investigation, questionable purchasing records, and financial relationships that hadn’t been properly disclosed.
These were serious concerns.
But they were matters for qualified investigators and the relevant authorities to evaluate, not accusations I intended to settle over Thanksgiving dinner.
“The hospital has referred the findings for appropriate review,” I explained. “You’ll be contacted through official channels.”
Vanessa slowly stepped away from Ethan.
“You told me Northstar was an ordinary investment,” she whispered.
He avoided her eyes.
That silence seemed to trouble her more than anything I’d said.
Then Dad turned toward me.
“Are you satisfied now? You’re making your sister miserable!”
I looked at him.
“I didn’t make Ethan’s business decisions, Dad. And I didn’t ask everyone here to mock my work.”
He shook his head.
I glanced at the fifty-dollar bill beside his plate.
Then I gently pushed it toward him.
“Keep it.”
Dad frowned.
“What?”
“You might find it useful.”
Grandma looked at me knowingly.
She understood exactly what I meant.
Two years earlier, Dad’s business had collapsed.
