Page 119 of Unwritten Rules

“Well, he did. While you were sequestered with that atrocious woman who gave everyone lip when we all reached out.” Mr. Caldwell butted in.

I wracked my brain to try to remember anything from Sylvia’s hell hole that would trigger a memory of any of this. As far as I knew, I was kept in the dark about most things and she never paid me any mind outside of her own proclivities. I was told to sit down, shut up, go to school, and mind my business.

Anything else would get me corporal punishment.

No letters came that I knew of. I never did much outside of school besides talk to Kelly. I lived in my bedroom–doing homework or reading to avoid her–for most of those years before I was ousted and was able to access some of my money to buy a house.

I even rummaged through memories of her abuse to try to search for clues. No dice.

“I never got anything,” I finally admitted into the silence. “What did she say to everyone?”

“Mostly excuses,” Evans said. “That you were grieving, didn’t want to take messages, or that you were out with friends, and that being underaged made her your legal caretaker. She threatened multiple lawyers on us, claiming you made that call and wanted to be left alone.”

I balled my fists on the table, trying not to slam them in frustration. First, she abuses me. Second, she isolates me. “She neglected... to relay that information to me.”

“Well, we have signed documents from you verifying certain details.”

That time I did slam my fists into the table. “Show me the fucking papers, Evans.”

All eyes fixed on me, some wide in surprise. A timid, soft-spoken girl like me finally snapping. Whatever Sylvia pulled was going to put her at the top of my hit list.

He did as I asked and pulled up a folder, sharing the screen to the projector in the room. There were multitudes of documents spanning the years I was with her with multiple statements and agreements.

The first was a no contact request due to grieving the loss of my mother, Maria. It clearly stated I was unable to coherently think or communicate while I dealt with the tragedy of her passing after years of watching her slowly die. I never wrote that, but my signature was expertly forged with the guardian signature beneath mine.

“Evans...I didn’t write these.”

He didn’t show signs of any emotion or thought. His game face was on. “These were produced by a lawyer from within the company. He claimed to have met with you over each and every letter, statement, or agreement that was relayed to us. Multiple have corroborated that story.”

From the texts to the vague comments made by everyone, this felt like it made sense.

Feeling a bit chaotic, I pulled out my phone.

Here goes nothing.

Me: we have rats in the ranks and they’ve been crawling around for years. Need help.

I shot off the text wondering what my life would turn into after it went out.

Feeling an inch of relief from the text, I looked out at everyone spread out around me, waiting for either instruction or what I would say next. “Then we have rats that need to be trapped. These,” I motioned to the screen and stood, “are not mine. I’ve never seen them. The options are that I was either coerced under the influence to sign these or they’ve been forged. Neither are great options, but whatever you all agreed to within some of these is null and void and I want Sylvia to answer for her actions.”

The men looked around, wondering what scheme we’d been pulled into. For all we knew, Sylvia could have signed the company away from underneath me. The money hungry bitch who loathed my mother for building herself up from the dirt had tricks at play.

I stood near the projection, tapping my foot as I looked through the letters and contracts sent using my name. Some approved monetary requests for her. Others were contracts signed for benefits that lasted past her guardianship when I turned eighteen. She’d planned and plotted against me while I was under her care.

But why?

Did she really hate my mother that much? Mom never told me a lot about her family, so much so that I never knew them personally or interacted outside of an occasional needed association. Whatever my remaining family had planned, it was all in the name of undermining my mother’s legacy.

“Give me a list of every person who approved, viewed, or even touched these documents. They undermined my mother and they’re done. If any of you in this room are on this list, I will personally kill you myself for putting this company at risk.”

With my arms crossed at the head of the table, I searched the expressions of the men before me, wondering if any of them knew anything about this. There would be a reckoning.

Evans cleared his throat, clearly surprised by my death threat. “I’ll have that list to you by end of day and you’ll have beefed up security for a few days.”

I nodded, holding onto my last scrap of composure.

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