“Not today.”
“Have you or Jeremy heard of MMT Inc? It’s a shell company.”
“Doesn’t ring any bells. I can ask him to dig.”
“See what you can find out. I’m going to have my guys working on it too. There might be a connection to GreenSphere.”
“And what’s the connection to Wade?” she asked.
“That’s what I want to find out.”
Telling Lena that I’d been thinking about what she’d told me about Madison—her declined mental and emotional state—was on the tip of my tongue. That had been lingering in the back of my mind since our conversation. To say my thoughts were consumed with Madison’s well-being would be inaccurate. I’d been considering how her mental decline would play in Brooklyn’s custody if Phillip were to also be declared unfit. I’d also been thinking that if anyone was pointing fingers to the villain in Madison’s decline, no one was immune.
Lena, Logan, Phillip, me, and Madison herself.
“I need to get to the bottom of this,” I said. “Phillip has already taken it too far. I’m not letting Julia get fucked like…”
The silence of my unfinished sentence hung in the air.
“Like Madison, Van. Is that what you were going to say?”
“Yes.”
“Hmm,” Lena recounted. “Literally and figuratively.” Her voice took on a more determined tone. “I’m going to go see her.”
“I thought you weren’t allowed.”
“I’m not asking.”
“Lord help whoever tries to stop you,” I said, knowing that when Lena had a will, she’d find a way.
“It’s been too long. I’m a shitty sister. I tried, though, back when—”
“You did, Lena. You aren’t a shitty sister any more than I’m a shitty brother.”
Her laugh was louder than before. “If that’s supposed to be a pep talk, try again.”
“No, it’s the truth. We can only put up with so much shit before washing our hands. It’s the only way to stay sane.”
“So you think we’re sane?”
I grinned. “I mean, on a scale from one to ten, I’d give us a seven.”
“I’ll talk to Jeremy about MMT and get back to you.”
Hearing the letters from Lena gave them a new perspective. “Fuck,” I muttered.
Lena replied, “Oh shit. Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
“Why? It has to be a coincidence.”
“Right,” Lena replied. “It’s a coincidence that a shell company has Madison’s initials.”
Madison Montgomery Thomas.
Julia
Surveying the dwindling number of suitcases and boxes, I tried to concentrate on the task at hand instead of my recent conversation with my parents.