Chapter 6 - The Discovery of the $800,000
While Logan and Chelsea scrambled to find a private lender or family member willing to bail them out, Fiona Cartwright initiated the final audit of my assets.
It was during this process that the true depth of my private savings became relevant to the legal proceedings. Logan’s defense attorney, desperate to find grounds for a settlement, requested a financial disclosure from my side, claiming that I had "misled" my son regarding my financial capacity and caused him unearned financial distress by suddenly withholding support.
Fiona hosted the formal disclosure meeting in her conference room. Logan and his attorney sat on one side of the mahogany table; Fiona and I sat on the other. Chelsea had been barred from the room due to her previous outbursts.
Logan’s lawyer, a young man looking severely overworked, shuffled his papers. "Mr. Higgins, my client operated under the reasonable assumption that you were a dependent living in his home, receiving basic support. By abruptly withdrawing your guarantees, you have intentionally pushed him toward personal bankruptcy."
Fiona smiled—a sharp, professional smile that signaled absolute dominance. She slid a thick, bound document across the table.
"Let us correct the record," Fiona said smoothly. "My client, Mr. Albert Higgins, was never a dependent. He paid $1,200 per month in cash directly into your client's shared household account for 'rent and utilities'—a fact documented by these forty-eight bank deposit receipts."
Logan stared at the receipts, his mouth opening slightly. "Dad... you were depositing money every month?"
"I was," I said softly. "I did not want to be a burden."
"Furthermore," Fiona continued, tapping the bound document, "Mr. Higgins possesses a fully liquid personal investment portfolio valued at $832,410, held entirely in independent wealth management accounts. He was never broke. He chose to live modestly."
Logan’s eyes went wide. The color drained completely from his face as he looked at me, realizing the monumental truth.
May you like
"Eight... eight hundred thousand?" Logan whispered, his voice barely audible. "Dad... you had almost a million dollars?"
"I did, Logan," I said, meeting his gaze. "And until three weeks ago, every single penny of it was set to be transferred to you upon my passing. That was my plan. That was why I saved, lived simply, and kept my head down."
Related Stories
