Her office, my father repeated numbly. Anderson Capital Management, David supplied. Rainier Tower, floor thirty-two. Emma’s assistant can schedule appointments. We all stood. My parents drifted toward the door like sleepwalkers. Olivia lingered with Marcus beside her. This isn’t over, she said quietly. You can’t just steal a family legacy. I didn’t steal anything, I said. I was given responsibility by someone who trusted me. That isn’t theft. It’s succession planning.
Marcus touched Olivia’s arm. We should go. But Olivia pulled free and stepped closer to me. You think you’re so smart, don’t you? With your company and your suit and your important-sounding job. But you’re still just little Emma, the family disappointment who couldn’t even get into Yale.
I held her gaze. I didn’t want Yale. I wanted to build something real, and I did. You manipulated a dying woman. That’s enough, Marcus said sharply. Olivia, that is an accusation you cannot prove and should not make. The trust documents are legal. The transfers were documented. Emma’s qualifications are legitimate. This is over. Olivia stared at him as if he had betrayed her. Then she looked back at me, and for the first time in my life, I saw fear in her eyes.
Not exactly fear of me, but fear of what I represented. The realization that the family hierarchy she had trusted her whole life had just inverted. She turned and walked out without another word. Marcus paused at the door. For what it’s worth, Emma, I’m sorry. We should have paid more attention. Then he followed his wife.
When the room finally cleared, I sat back down, suddenly tired in a way that felt bone-deep. Jonathan, Patricia, and David remained. That went about as well as expected, Jonathan said dryly. Helen predicted every reaction, Patricia said.
She told me your father would appeal to primogeniture, your mother would cry, and your sister would threaten legal action through her husband. She knew them well, Jonathan said. She knew you better, Patricia added. David opened his laptop. We should talk about next steps. The trust needs active management, and you have decisions to make.
For the next hour, we went through the numbers. The eighty-three-million-dollar real estate portfolio generated approximately six-point-two million dollars in annual net operating income. After family distributions and operating costs, that left about four-point-eight million per year for reinvestment and charitable giving.
Grandma had specified that at least fifteen percent of annual trust income had to go to organizations supporting women in business, access to education, and cancer research. Nine hundred thirty thousand dollars a year, minimum.
She has essentially turned you into a private foundation manager, Patricia observed. Plus a real estate portfolio manager, David said, plus the CEO of your own company. You’re going to be very busy, Jonathan added. I can handle it, I said. Patricia smiled. I know you can. That’s why Helen chose you.
Then she closed her folder and said, One more thing. Helen left specific instructions regarding her personal property. There are items she wanted you to have. They’re at the house. The San Juan house? I asked. No. Her house. The original one. I looked up sharply.