Maid’s Daughter Helped an Old Man Every Day — Until a General Walked In With 5 Military Officers
Chapter 15
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"And did he... did he promise you things?" Graves leaned in. "Did he promise you money? A new house?"Emma looked at him, confused. "No. Why would he do that? He's not a bank. He was just Mr. Hank.""But he gave you a coin," Graves pounced. "A heavy, gold-looking coin.""It's not gold," Emma said. "It's a challenge coin. He traded it to me for the cookies.""He traded you?" Graves looked at the stenographer. "So, you made a deal. You gave him cookies; he gave you... what? A promise?""Objection," Sinclair said. "He's twisting the child's words.""I'm just trying to understand this trade!""He said..." Emma's voice was clear and steady. "He said I was the Quartermaster. And he said he found his family.""His family?" Graves looked at Brenda and Junior. "You mean them?""No," Emma said. She pointed at herself. "Me. He said I was a Carter, like my great-grandpa. He said we were better than you.""You?!" Junior shouted from the back wall, his face purple."Quiet!" Graves ordered, his fake smile gone. "The old man was senile! He was confused! He was babbling about wars and ghosts!""No, he wasn't," Emma said. "He was just mad. Because you were disappointments. And he was waiting for us.""This is a farce!" Graves threw his pen down. "General, this is absurd! The man was clearly not of sound mind! He was hallucinating! He thought this child was some long-lost relative! We will see you in court!"Brenda was smiling; she thought they had won.General Sinclair stood up. He buttoned his suit jacket."Mr. Graves," he said, "you are correct: we will see you in court. But you are basing your entire case on the idea that Henry Porter was senile.""He clearly was!" Graves said."My client, Hank, knew you would say that."The general reached into his briefcase. He pulled out not a document, but a small, silver digital video recorder."Hank was a logistician, Mr. Graves. He believed in documentation."Brenda's smile vanished. "What is that?" Graves asked."It is a statement of testamentary capacity. A video will, so to speak. Hank was many things, but he was not stupid. He knew his family. He knew you. And he wanted to have the last word."The general pressed play. The small screen flickered to life.It was Hank. He was in his bed, room 214. He was in the thin paper gown. He looked tired, but his eyes were fierce, blue, and sharp as glass."My name is Henry 'Hank' Porter," he barked, his voice the familiar growl. "It is October 28th. I am in full command of my faculties. My mind is clear." He coughed. "To my son, Junior, and my granddaughter, Brenda: if you are watching this, it means you are contesting my will. It means I am dead. And it means you are proving my point, you greedy, lazy disappointments."Junior made a small, strangled sound."I am of sound mind," Hank continued. "I am not being unduly influenced by anyone. I am making a choice. I have spent the last two years testing the world, and the world failed. Until the Quartermaster showed up."