Chapter 83 - The Amendment Beatrice Had Never Seen
Beatrice joined the review by video. When the trust amendment appeared on screen, she leaned close to her camera.
“I never witnessed this,” she said.
The page carried her name and what looked like her signature. The date was two weeks before Anne died. Beatrice said she had been out of the state then, visiting her sister after surgery. Her old calendar and travel receipts could confirm it.
Nora asked whether the amendment looked familiar.
“No. The language is wrong for my office. It refers to ‘the beneficiary’s continuing consent,’ but it doesn’t say which beneficiary. I would never have left that undefined.”
The amendment transferred authority over the reserve from the family trustees to an administrator named in the document: Adrian Rourke.
The transfer was subject to Anne’s written approval.
There was no separate approval page attached.
I read the clause again. “Does this give Adrian control?”
“Not without proving the amendment is valid and the required approval exists,” Nora said. “The signature is disputed. Beatrice denies witnessing it. We need the original and the execution records.”
The administrator sent the physical ledger under a documented chain of custody. It arrived in a box with labels from two different records rooms. The accountant and both sides’ counsel opened it together. The pages were fragile, written in ink, and full of cross-references to schedules we had not yet seen.
One entry showed Anne’s restricted contribution being partially applied to construction expenses. Another showed the remainder carried forward. A separate entry listed my later allocation. Neither entry showed a direct payment to me.
Adrian’s company had been authorized to manage the reserve under the disputed amendment. The ledger showed several administrative transfers after Anne’s death. Some had matching receipts. Others did not.
Charles’s attorney argued that the transfers had funded legitimate operations. Adrian’s attorney said his client had acted on instructions from the family trustees. The accountant recorded both positions and marked the unsupported entries for further review.
Beatrice sent her calendar and travel receipts that afternoon. They placed her more than six hundred miles away on the date the amendment was supposedly witnessed.
“That makes the signature questionable,” Nora said. “It doesn’t prove who signed it.”
The foundation board scheduled a special meeting to review the amendment and the proposed corridor work. Madison asked to attend with her own counsel.
“I don’t want to be presented as the family’s representative,” she said. “I want to speak about the consent I signed and the foundation’s process.”
“You should,” I told her.
She glanced at the amendment. “Do you think Dad knew this existed?”
“I don’t know.”
“Adrian’s name is on it.”
“I know.”
We had gotten used to evidence that pointed somewhere without telling us exactly how far it pointed. A name could show access. It could show responsibility. It could also show what someone had been asked to do.
The next morning, the court registry confirmed that Charles’s counsel had filed a statement acknowledging the amendment’s existence but disputing its effect. Adrian’s counsel filed a separate statement saying he had never exercised control over the reserve.
“They’re each pointing toward the other,” Dominic said.
“They’re each protecting their own position.”
“And we keep following the records.”
“Yes.”
The board meeting was scheduled for Friday. The night before it, Rebecca called Madison and said she had found another attachment to the amendment. She would bring it to the meeting.
“What is it?” Madison asked.
May you like
Rebecca didn’t answer at first.
“Anne’s handwritten approval,” she finally said. “But the signature page is dated after the amendment.”
