Chapter 5 - THE SAFETY PLAN
Child protective services did not remove Owen and Chloe.
That surprised Beverly's lawyer.
It also surprised Marissa.
The caseworker, Andrea Collins, explained why.
“We evaluate present safety.”
Beverly had no access.
Marissa's home was intact.
The black device had been removed.
Marissa voluntarily agreed not to possess similar equipment.
Her sister Paige would stay for two weeks.
Marissa accepted an emergency mobility aide so she would not be dependent on Beverly for physical tasks.
And the home video showed the chain of events clearly.
Andrea also said:
“I’m concerned about your decision with the device.”
“So am I.”
“You understand why that's different from whether Beverly abused the children.”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
No false equivalence.
Different acts.
Different risk.
The children stayed with their mother.
Beverly received supervised access to none of them while the criminal case remained active.
Then Andrea asked about money.
Not because CPS handled trusts.
Because financial control could affect safety.
“Who buys medication?”
“Usually Beverly.”
“With her card?”
“I thought so.”
“You thought?”
Marissa looked at the stack of statements Nina's office had requested.
“I don't know anymore.”
Paige arrived that afternoon.
Thirty-four.
Marissa's older sister.
She had disliked Beverly from the first Thanksgiving they met.
That did not automatically make her right about everything.
It made her extremely annoying now.
“I told you.”
Marissa looked at her.
“You get one.”
Paige frowned.
“One what?”
“One ‘I told you.’ You just used it.”
Paige actually laughed.
Then sat beside her.
“What do you need?”
That was better.
The first trust statement arrived the next morning.
Balance:
$684,211.
Marissa stared.
“No.”
Nina was on video.
“What did you think remained?”
“Maybe ninety thousand.”
“Why?”
“Beverly said Jason's business debts took most of it.”
Nina looked at the statement.
“The trust did pay approximately one hundred fourteen thousand toward personally guaranteed business obligations.”
“That makes sense.”
Jason's event-fabrication company had leases and equipment debt.
Marissa knew.
Then:
Funeral expenses.
Estate counsel.
Mortgage.
Household support.
All plausible.
Still nowhere near enough to reduce the account to ninety thousand.
“Starting balance?”
Marissa asked.
Nina hesitated.
“Eight hundred and ninety-two thousand.”
Marissa stopped breathing normally.
Jason had nearly nine hundred thousand dollars in life-insurance proceeds and related death benefits.
Beverly told her:
About three hundred.
“Why would she lie?”
Nina shook her head.
“We don't know yet that she did. She may have described net available cash, combined other liabilities, or you may remember the conversation differently.”
Marissa appreciated that.
Then the transaction list loaded.
Monthly household payment.
Mortgage.
Insurance.
Utilities.
Pharmacy.
Therapy.
Childcare.
Marissa stared.
“This is our life.”
“Yes.”
“She wasn't paying for us.”
“Not primarily.”
Beverly had contributed some personal money.
But for the last ten months almost every expense she described as supporting Marissa had come directly from Jason's trust.
Money created specifically to support Marissa and the children.
Marissa looked at the unpaid pharmacy bill.
Beverly had threatened to withhold Marissa's own household trust support while calling the family burdens.
Then Nina pointed lower on the statement.
“There are reimbursements to Beverly.”
Marissa leaned closer.
Total:
$63,420.
Description:
Family care / advances / residence support.
Marissa's anger rose.
Nina stopped it.
“Not yet.”
“What?”
“We need receipts.”
“What if she stole it?”
“What if she fronted sixty thousand dollars while the policy was tied up?”
Marissa went quiet.
Nina continued.
“Evidence first.”
May you like
Marissa hated that sentence.
Which meant she needed it.
