Chapter 8: Six Days Before Goodbye
Jada sat down so abruptly that the folding chair scraped across the pavement.
Six days.
Her mother had signed the witness statement six days before she died.
For twelve years, Jada had remembered the final week of Renee Bennett's life in fragments: the smell of antiseptic, the quiet beeping of hospital equipment, her father's rough hand wrapped around hers, and her mother's voice telling her to be brave.
She remembered promising to take care of her father.
She remembered Renee smiling.
She did not remember any conversation about school property.
“Daddy,” she whispered, “did Mom know she was going to die?””
Raymond knelt beside her chair.
“She knew her illness was serious. But none of us knew exactly how much time she had.””
“Then why would she sign something like that?””
“I don't know.””
Jada searched his face.
“You were with her.””
“Yes.””
“You told me you spent every night at the hospital.””
“I did.””
“Then how could you not know?””
Raymond looked down.
“Because there were things your mother chose to discuss with other people. She didn't want every conversation to become about her illness.””
Principal Carter approached, carrying a printout from the district office.
“The original file includes a statement from a meeting held at the administration building. Your mother was present, along with two district representatives and a legal adviser.””
Denise took the document.
“The meeting date is confirmed,” she said.
“So is the attendance record.””
Jada wiped her cheeks.
“What did she agree to?””
Denise read the relevant section.
“The statement says that Renee Bennett acknowledged the proposed transfer of the disputed parcel, subject to written consent from Raymond Bennett.””
Jada looked up.
“Subject to his consent?””
“Yes.””
“So she could discuss it, but she couldn't transfer the property without Dad signing?””
“That appears to be correct.””
Raymond released a slow breath.
“That was the agreement.””
Jada stared at him.
“Then the transfer wasn't valid.””
“We don't know that yet,” Denise replied.
“We need to examine the complete file and determine what happened afterward.””
Tyler sat on the chair beside Jada.
“My mom has been talking about this school for years,” he said quietly.
“Not the students. The property.””
Monica was still inside the administration tent, arguing with a district employee who had asked her to surrender the disputed document.
Jada turned toward Tyler.
“What do you mean?””
Tyler rubbed his forehead.
“When I was younger, Mom used to say that the school was sitting on something valuable. I thought she meant the land around it. She would talk about development companies and how the district was wasting opportunities.””
Raymond's expression sharpened.
“Did she ever mention a buyer?””
“Not by name.””
“Did she keep documents at home?””
Tyler hesitated.
“She has a locked filing cabinet in her study. I've never been allowed to open it.””
Jada looked at Denise.
“Can the district search her house?””
“No,” Denise said firmly.
“Not without proper legal authority. We need to follow the process.””
Tyler nodded, then looked toward his mother.
“But I can tell you what I've seen.””
He explained that Monica had received letters from a real-estate company several times over the previous year. Whenever he entered the study, she would turn the papers facedown. Once, he had heard her discussing the school property with someone over the phone.
She had said, The record has to be clean before the redevelopment vote.
Raymond went very still.
“Redevelopment vote?”” he repeated.
Tyler nodded.
“That's what she said.””
Denise immediately opened her notebook.
“The district has been considering a redevelopment proposal for the older buildings. Nothing has been finalized.””
Jada looked toward the library wing.
The building had been a second home to her. It was where she had discovered science books, where she had studied during lunch, and where a librarian had once let her stay late when she couldn't afford a quiet place to work.
“Are they planning to tear it down?”” she asked.
“The proposal includes renovations,” Carter replied.
“It also includes possible changes to the property boundaries.””
Raymond stood slowly.
“That's why the board chose today.””
Carter nodded.
“They wanted the ownership issue resolved before the proposal moved forward.””
Jada turned to her father.
“Were you going to tell me any of this?””
Raymond looked ashamed.
“I wanted to wait until I had the complete record.””
“You've been waiting twelve years.””
He closed his eyes.
“I know.””
She stood and walked several steps away, stopping beneath the blue-and-white balloons tied beside the family seating.
Her father had taught her to be honest, to work hard, and to never take more than she needed. Yet he had kept a secret that touched the school where she had spent half her childhood.
He had done it to protect her.
But protection had become a wall.
“Jada,” Raymond called gently.
She turned.
“I'm listening.””
He took a breath.
“Your mother believed the library mattered because it gave children a place to imagine lives bigger than their circumstances. She didn't want the district to lose it. When I offered the money, she helped me negotiate terms that would keep the school protected.””
“Then why did she sign the statement?””
“I think she was trying to secure the library's future. But I can't tell you what she intended without seeing the entire agreement.””
Jada nodded slowly.
It was the first answer that didn't pretend to be complete.
Principal Carter's phone rang. He stepped away to answer it, then returned with an expression that made Denise close her notebook.
“The district's legal counsel has reviewed the preliminary findings,” he said.
“They want to suspend the redevelopment vote until the ownership issue is resolved.””
Denise nodded.
“That is the appropriate decision.””
Jada looked toward the administration tent.
“Does Monica know?””
“She will be informed.””
At that moment, Monica emerged from the tent with her handbag over one shoulder. Her face was composed again, but the corners of her eyes were red.
She walked directly toward Raymond.
“Are you satisfied now?””
Raymond didn't answer.
“You've stopped the redevelopment proposal. You've humiliated me in front of the entire school. You've made my son question everything I taught him.””
Tyler stood.
“Maybe I should question it.””
Monica turned on him.
“You have no idea what I've done for this family.””
“Then tell me.””
She looked at Jada.
“Your father is not the innocent man you think he is.””
Jada stiffened.
“What does that mean?””
Monica reached into her handbag and removed a folded letter.
“Your mother wrote this six days before she died. She gave it to me because she didn't trust the district to honor the agreement.””
Raymond stared at the envelope.
“You told me there was no letter.””
Monica's eyes flashed.
“I told you I didn't have the original transfer file.””
“Why would Renee give you that letter?””
“Because she knew I could make sure it was delivered.””
“Then why did you keep it for twelve years?””
Monica looked at Jada.
“Because I was waiting for the right moment.””
Jada stepped forward.
“You don't get to decide when my mother's words belong to me.””
Monica held the letter away from her.
“You need to understand what she was asking.””
“Give it to me.””
For a moment, Monica looked as though she might refuse.
Then she placed the letter in Jada's hand.
The paper was yellowed at the edges, and Renee's familiar handwriting covered the front.
Jada recognized the looping capital R immediately.
Her fingers trembled as she unfolded it.
The first line read:
Monica, if Raymond refuses to tell Jada the truth, then you must make sure she learns it before the school is sold.
Jada stopped reading.
She looked at her father.
He had gone pale.
“What truth?”” she whispered.
Monica swallowed.
“Keep reading.””
Jada's eyes moved to the next paragraph.
May you like
And the first sentence beneath the greeting made her knees nearly buckle.
The money Raymond gave the district was never a donation.
