Chapter 3 - The Ross Family
Kendall sat in a smaller conference room with her mother and attorney.
Her father had not come.
That was not unusual anymore.
“Tell me exactly what they found,” Victoria said.
Kendall stared at the wall.
“Envelopes.”
“How many?”
“I don’t know.”
“Kendall.”
“Fourteen.”
Victoria closed her eyes.
Attorney Nathan Price leaned forward.
“Were those envelopes placed in your locker by you?”
Kendall looked at him.
“Yes.”
Victoria’s head snapped toward her.
“Why would you say that?”
“Because it’s true.”
Nathan raised a hand.
“Victoria, let her answer.”
Kendall’s mother stood and walked toward the window.
“Were they stolen?”
Kendall swallowed.
“I don’t know.”
“You put fourteen student-assistance envelopes in your locker and you don’t know whether they were stolen?”
“They weren’t supposed to still be there.”
“Where were they supposed to be?”
Kendall said nothing.
Nathan spoke gently.
“Kendall, you are sixteen. This is a school disciplinary investigation right now. Depending on what happened, it could become more serious. Silence does not automatically protect you.”
Kendall laughed bitterly.
“My mother would disagree.”
Victoria turned.
“Excuse me?”
“You tell me to say nothing every time something goes wrong.”
“Because you talk before thinking.”
“No. Because you think talking gives people information they can use.”
“Right now it does.”
Nathan interrupted.
“Enough.”
Kendall looked down at her expensive phone.
The screen was cracked near one corner.
Caleb had mocked its price with his silence more effectively than he could have with words.
She remembered holding it up.
My drink costs more than your lunch.
She wanted to disappear.
Nathan asked, “Did you use a relief-fund meal card?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Kendall’s mother turned again.
“Kendall.”
“It had money on it.”
“That is not a reason.”
“I was hungry.”
Victoria looked almost offended.
“You have a school account.”
“It was empty.”
“I added money last month.”
“No, you didn’t.”
Silence.
Nathan looked between them.
Victoria’s voice lowered.
“We have had temporary banking issues.”
Kendall laughed.
“Temporary.”
“Kendall.”
“Our cards have been declined for three months.”
Nathan stopped taking notes.
Victoria’s face hardened.
“That has nothing to do with this.”
“It has everything to do with this.”
Kendall stood.
“You keep telling everyone Dad is traveling because of the acquisition.”
“He is.”
“He’s in Ohio because the bank took the warehouse.”
Victoria’s face went white.
Nathan quietly closed his folder.
Kendall continued.
“You sold your Cartier bracelet.”
“Stop.”
“The Lexus payment is two months late.”
“Kendall.”
“And the reason you didn’t refill my cafeteria account is because you couldn’t.”
Victoria slapped the table.
“We are not discussing family finances in a school office.”
Kendall stared at her.
“Why? Because somebody might think we’re poor?”
The word landed between them.
Victoria looked away first.
The Ross family had been wealthy.
Not famous.
Not billionaire wealthy.
But wealthy enough for private vacations, country-club memberships, and a house overlooking the lake.
Then Daniel Ross’s commercial construction company lost two major contracts.
A development project collapsed.
A lender sued.
By December, the family was surviving on appearances and rapidly shrinking savings.
Kendall knew pieces.
Enough to panic.
Not enough to understand.
Nathan asked, “How did you get the meal card?”
Kendall sat again.
“I found it in one of the envelopes.”
“Why was the envelope in your possession?”
She hesitated.
“My mom asked me to bring some fundraiser materials home.”
Victoria turned.
“No.”
Kendall stared.
“You did.”
“I asked you to bring donor packets.”
“And the relief envelopes were in the same crate.”
“That is not what happened.”
Kendall’s expression changed.
For the first time, the attorney saw that mother and daughter were not telling the same story.
Nathan asked, “What crate?”
Kendall explained.
Two weeks earlier, after a Falcon Relief Fund committee meeting, Victoria had asked Kendall to carry a plastic storage crate from the student activities office to their SUV.
Victoria served as a parent volunteer for the fund.
Inside were donation forms, blank thank-you cards, and sealed assistance envelopes waiting for distribution.
Kendall had noticed them.
She had also noticed the cash.
“Did your mother tell you to take the student envelopes?”
Nathan asked.
“No.”
“Did you?”
Kendall’s eyes filled.
“Yes.”
Victoria whispered, “Oh my God.”
“I was going to put them back.”
“Why take them?”
Kendall looked at her mother.
Because the truth was humiliating.
“I needed money.”
Victoria’s face collapsed.
“How much?”
“Not all of it.”
“How much?”
“About three hundred.”
Nathan remained very still.
Kendall wiped her eyes angrily.
“I thought we were going to lose the house.”
Victoria closed her eyes.
“So you stole from children who needed assistance?”
“I know.”
“No, I don’t think you do.”
Kendall’s voice rose.
“I heard you crying in the kitchen because the electric company called.”
Victoria froze.
“I heard Dad say we might have to leave Franklin Ridge because tuition for Sophie’s dance program—”
“You don’t have a sister.”
Kendall stopped.
Nathan frowned.
Victoria stared at her.
Kendall pressed fingers to her forehead.
“I mean my tutoring. Everything. I heard all of it.”
The mistake exposed how panicked she was.
Nathan asked, “What happened to the rest of the envelopes?”
“I kept them.”
“Why?”
“I was afraid putting them back would get me caught.”
“And the signatures?”
Kendall looked confused.
“What signatures?”
Nathan studied her.
“You didn’t sign student names?”
“No.”
“Caleb Foster’s grant is marked distributed.”
“I never signed anything.”
Victoria suddenly became very still.
Kendall noticed.
“Mom?”
Victoria picked up her purse.
“We’re done.”
Nathan looked at her.
“No, we are not.”
“I need to speak with my husband.”
“Victoria.”
She ignored him.
Kendall stared at her mother.
“You know about the signatures.”
Victoria stopped at the door.
“No.”
“You do.”
“No.”
“Mom.”
Victoria turned.
Her eyes were wet now.
“Kendall, please stop talking.”
That plea frightened Kendall more than anger would have.
Because she knew her mother.
Victoria Ross never said please when she believed she was in control.
May you like
And if Kendall had stolen only three hundred dollars, someone else had apparently been making the relief money disappear long before her.
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