Chapter 14 - THE LAST IMPOSTOR
Emily was not Robert's ally.
At least, that's what we initially believed.
She had been undercover.
She had spent years investigating the people who destroyed my mother.
But she had also been watching me.
Because my mother had asked her to.
Emily came to the house that night.
She was twenty years old.
She carried the original foundation charter.
Dad stared at her.
“You knew my wife.”
“Yes.”
“You knew about Ethan.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn't you come sooner?”
“Because I was afraid Robert would find me.”
She handed Michael the charter.
He examined it.
“It's genuine.”
Emily nodded.
“Your mother gave it to me the night before she died.”
“Why?”
“She told me to disappear.”
“Why?”
“Because she knew someone would search for the document.”
Michael looked at the charter.
“There is an additional clause.”
“What?”
He read it aloud.
The foundation shall remain protected until all three biological heirs reach legal maturity.
Nathan frowned.
“I'm already an adult.”
“Yes.”
Lily nodded.
“So am I.”
Michael looked at me.
“You're the final condition.”
“What happens when I turn eighteen?”
“The foundation activates.”
“And then?”
“The company returns to the three heirs.”
Dad looked at me.
“Together.”
For the first time, the family didn't have to fight over the company.
We could choose what to do with it.
But Robert was still missing.
And Thomas had hinted that someone else remained.
Emily finally told us.
“There is another person.”
“Who?”
“The woman who funded Robert.”
“Who?”
Emily looked at Dad.
“Your mother.”
Everyone froze.
Grandma.
She had been cooperating.
But she claimed she didn't know about the murders.
Emily shook her head.
“She knew more than she admitted.”
Dad confronted Grandma.
She finally confessed.
She had helped Robert move money.
She had given him access to the foundation.
She had hidden Lily.
She had lied about Nathan.
But she had never ordered my mother's death.
Robert had manipulated her.
He told her that if she didn't cooperate, he would expose a secret from her past.
“What secret?”
Grandma looked at me.
“My husband wasn't Ethan's grandfather.”
Dad froze.
“What?”
“He wasn't your biological father.”
The room went silent.
Grandma explained that she had been forced into the marriage.
The man she loved had been someone else.
A man named Richard Hale.
Thomas's father.
That meant Thomas was connected to our family by blood.
The entire conspiracy had been built around an old family feud.
My grandfather had stolen Richard's inheritance.
Richard had spent decades trying to take it back.
His son Thomas continued the revenge.
Robert joined because he wanted money.
Clara joined because she wanted revenge for her mother.
And Grandma became trapped between them.
Dad looked exhausted.
“So none of this was about Ethan.”
Grandma shook her head.
“It became about Ethan.”
“Why?”
“Because your mother chose him.”
That was the truth.
My mother had chosen me.
Not because I was more important than Lily.
Not because I deserved more than Nathan.
But because she wanted one child to stand as the protected heir while the others remained hidden.
She believed that if the family survived long enough, all three children would eventually reunite.
They finally had.
Then police arrived.
Robert had been found.
He was hiding in the old Bennett estate.
We went there.
He was arrested without a fight.
But before police took him away, he looked at me.
“You think your mother won.”
I said nothing.
He smiled.
“She didn't.”
“What do you mean?”
He leaned closer.
“Ask your father why he never told you the truth about the night she died.”
I looked at Dad.
He went pale.
Robert was taken away.
I turned toward my father.
“What didn't you tell me?”
Dad closed his eyes.
Then he said:
“Your mother called me that night.”
My heart stopped.
“What did she say?”
“She told me someone was coming.”
“Who?”
“She said…”
He couldn't finish.
“Dad.”
He looked at me.
“She said she was going to meet your grandfather.”
I stared.
“And?”
“She told me not to follow.”
“Why?”
“Because she was afraid if I came, they would kill you.”
I felt tears in my eyes.
“What happened next?”
“I waited.”
Dad's voice broke.
“She never came home.”
Then Emily spoke.
“She did come home.”
Everyone turned.
“What?”
Emily held up a final photograph.
It showed my mother entering the house.
Alive.
Hours after Dad believed she had died.
The photograph had a timestamp.
My mother had returned home.
Someone inside the house had killed her.
And my father hadn't been there.
The final mystery wasn't who killed her.
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It was:
Who was waiting inside?
