Chapter 5: Eight Hundred Forty-Seven Thousand Dollars
I stared at the bank statement until the numbers blurred.
Eight hundred forty-seven thousand, two hundred fifty dollars.
My mother had supposedly died with nothing.
Celeste had spent twelve years telling me that my father left behind debts, that the family survived on borrowed money, and that every expense required a sacrifice.
Yet someone had placed a statement in my bedroom showing nearly a million dollars attached to my mother's name.
I looked at Celeste.
“Where did you get this?””
She climbed the stairs slowly, holding the key between two fingers.
“From somewhere your mother never wanted you to look.””
“Is this real?””
“Does it matter?””
“Yes!””
My voice cracked.
“That's my mother's name. That's her account number. Why have you been telling me there was no money?””
Celeste reached for the statement.
I pulled it against my chest.
“Give it to me.””
“No.””
Her eyes narrowed.
“You have no idea what that money represents.””
“Then explain it.””
“I don't owe you an explanation for every decision I make.””
“You sold my violin for money you apparently didn't need!””
Celeste's expression hardened.
“Your violin was never going to save this family.””
“Was my mother trying to save it?””
She flinched.
The reaction was so immediate that I almost missed it.
“What did you say?”” she asked.
I held her gaze.
“Was my mother trying to save us?””
Celeste looked toward the closed bedroom door, then lowered her voice.
“Your mother made a terrible mistake, Naomi. She trusted someone she should never have trusted.””
“My father?””
She said nothing.
“Was he really dead?””
Her face went pale.
I had never seen Celeste look that way. Not when she lost her job years ago. Not when Brianna broke her arm. Not even when we received the official notice about the insurance dispute after my father's accident.
She looked like someone who had heard a gunshot in the next room.
“Who told you that?”” she whispered.
I realized my mistake.
I had given her too much.
“Answer me.””
Celeste stepped closer.
“Your father died twelve years ago.””
“Then why does everyone act like his name is dangerous?””
“Because you keep digging up things you don't understand!””
“Maybe because nobody ever tells me the truth!””
Her hand struck the wall beside my shoulder.
The sound made me jump.
“Do you think your mother was innocent?”” Celeste demanded.
“Do you think she spent her life making perfect choices? She lied. She kept secrets. She dragged people into situations they never should have been part of.””
“Which people?””
Celeste's mouth tightened.
“Me.””
The word hung between us.
I had never heard her admit that she had been involved in anything my mother did before her death.
“What did you do?””
She stared at me for several seconds.
Then she took the statement from my hand.
“Forget you ever saw this.””
She folded the paper and slipped it into her pocket.
“Give me the account number,” she added.
“I don't have it.””
Her eyes searched my face.
“You're a terrible liar.””
“And you're a terrible mother.””
The instant the words left my mouth, the room went silent.
Celeste's expression changed.
For a moment, I thought she might slap me.
Instead, she leaned close enough that I could smell her perfume.
“Your mother made one final decision before she died,” she whispered.
“She chose to leave you with me.””
I swallowed.
“Maybe she thought you would protect me.””
Celeste straightened.
“Maybe she didn't have another choice.””
She turned and walked away.
I waited until her footsteps disappeared before pulling the second copy of the statement from beneath my mattress.
I had photographed the document before confronting her. Tasha had suggested it earlier, reminding me that the truth could disappear as quickly as paper.
My phone vibrated.
A message from Tasha.
*I found Marcus Reed. He's still alive. He works as a private investigator now.*
I sat down on the bed.
*Can you get his number?*
*Already did. But Naomi, there's something else.*
A photograph appeared.
It showed an old newspaper clipping about my mother. The headline mentioned her death, but the article itself was short. It stated that Rebecca Brooks had died following a sudden medical emergency at home.
The final paragraph caught my eye.
Authorities confirmed that no evidence of foul play had been established.
No evidence.
Not a declaration that nothing suspicious had happened.
I read the clipping again.
My mother had died less than a year after my father's disappearance. She had hidden a bank account, a key, and a message naming the detective who investigated the accident.
And now I knew Celeste had been involved in something she didn't want me to discover.
I called Marcus Reed.
A man answered after four rings.
“Reed Investigations.””
“Is this Detective Marcus Reed?””
“Who is calling?””
“My name is Naomi Brooks. My father was Isaiah Brooks.””
Silence.
I pressed the phone harder against my ear.
“Mr. Reed?””
“Where did you get this number?””
“My friend found it online.””
“Does your stepmother know you're calling me?””
I looked at the bedroom door.
“No.””
Another pause.
Then he said, “What do you want?””
“I found something my mother hid inside her violin. It has my father's name and a bank account number. She also left a message telling me to find you.””
The line went completely quiet.
I could hear a faint mechanical hum on his end.
Finally, he spoke.
“Read me the date on that message.””
“October 14.””
His breathing changed.
“Naomi, listen carefully. Do not bring that paper to your house again.””
“Why?””
“Because if what you found is connected to the investigation I worked twelve years ago, you could be in danger.””
I stood up.
“What happened to my father?””
“I can't discuss that over the phone.””
“Was he dead?””
“I said I can't discuss it over the phone.””
“Then meet me somewhere!””
He hesitated.
“Tomorrow morning. Ten o'clock. The public library downtown.
Bring copies of everything you found. Don't bring the originals.””
I grabbed a notebook.
“Will you tell me the truth?””
His answer came so quietly I nearly missed it.
“I'll tell you what I know.””
Before he hung up, he added one more thing.
“Naomi, if anyone asks whether you contacted me, deny it.””
The line went dead.
I sat on the edge of the bed, trying to make sense of what had just happened.
Someone had hidden nearly a million dollars.
Someone had concealed an account under my mother's name.
Someone had warned me not to trust my stepmother.
And a former detective had agreed to meet me in secret.
My phone buzzed again.
This time, it was Brianna.
*We need to talk. Alone.*
I stared at the message.
Then another arrived.
*Mom doesn't know I'm texting you. I saw what she did with the money from the violin.*
My fingers went numb.
I typed back.
*What did she do?*
Three dots appeared.
Then disappeared.
Then appeared again.
Finally, Brianna sent a photograph.
It showed a bank transfer confirmation dated that morning.
The amount was $4,800.
The recipient's name was Marcus Reed.
May you like
And beneath the transaction details, someone had typed a note.
*Final payment. Keep the girl away from the account.*
