The Flowers I Never Gave Her

I read the first line of my father's letter until the words began to blur.

Naomi Carter.

Twenty years ago.

That was impossible.

Naomi had been a child then. She hadn't even lived in our state.

I immediately called Mr. Bennett.

"Where did you find this?""

"In the original estate archive. It was sealed inside a separate envelope marked for your personal attention.""

"Why wasn't it given to me?""

"According to the archive records, Daniel Price requested that certain documents remain confidential until further notice.""

I closed my eyes.

"Of course he did.""

"Come to my office. I want you to read the original.""

I arrived fifteen minutes later.

Mr. Bennett placed a yellowed envelope on his desk.

My name was written across it.

Not typed.

Written in my father's familiar handwriting.

My hands trembled slightly as I opened it.

Inside was a four-page letter.

I began reading.

Ethan,

If you're reading this, I am probably no longer around to explain what happened in the final years of my life.

There is something I should have told you a long time ago.

Twenty years ago, I entered a business arrangement with a man named Robert Mitchell.

I stopped.

"Robert Mitchell?""

Mr. Bennett nodded.

"Adrian's father.""

I continued.

Robert was a talented businessman, but he believed every relationship had a price. We developed a manufacturing patent together. I provided the engineering expertise, and he provided the initial investment.

When the project became profitable, Robert wanted ownership of the entire technology.

I refused.

He threatened to destroy my company.

Then he threatened my family.

My throat tightened.

I kept reading.

Your mother was terrified. She wanted us to leave town, but I believed I could handle the situation.

I was wrong.

One evening, Robert arrived at our home with Daniel. They wanted me to sign over the patent rights. I refused again.

The next morning, your mother was involved in an accident.

I stopped breathing for a moment.

My mother had died in a car accident.

I had been told a truck crossed into her lane during heavy rain.

The police had ruled it accidental.

I looked at Mr. Bennett.

"Was my mother's accident investigated again?""

"Not that I'm aware of.""

I returned to the letter.

I never proved Robert was involved. But I discovered Daniel had given him information about our family's movements.

I never trusted Daniel again.

The next paragraph was shorter.

Ethan, there is one more thing. Robert's son, Adrian, was only a teenager when this happened. I don't know what his father told him. But I know Robert intended to use the next generation to gain what he couldn't take from me.

I lowered the letter.

"Why would my father mention Adrian?""

Mr. Bennett pointed to the last page.

"Keep reading.""

The final paragraph contained a name.

*Naomi Carter.*

If you ever meet a woman named Naomi Carter, do not assume she is connected to the Mitchell family simply because of her surname or her profession. Ask her about her mother, Evelyn.

I frowned.

"Naomi's mother's name is Evelyn.""

Mr. Bennett looked at me.

"You know her?""

"I've met her twice.""

I remembered a quiet woman with silver-streaked hair who rarely attended Naomi's family events.

Naomi had once told me her mother was estranged from her father's side of the family.

I read the final lines.

Evelyn was the only person who tried to help your mother when everything began to fall apart. She knows what happened to the original patent agreement. Find her before Robert's family does.

The letter ended with three words.

Protect yourself, son.

I put it down.

For several seconds, neither of us spoke.

Then Mr. Bennett opened another folder.

"There's a problem.""

I looked up.

"What now?""

"Someone accessed your father's estate archive yesterday.""

"Who?""

"The access request came through Northstar Medical Technologies.""

I stood.

"They know about the letter?""

"They may.""

I grabbed my phone.

I needed to speak to Evelyn.

Naomi's mother lived in a modest house outside the city.

I arrived at eleven that morning.

A small garden bordered the front walkway. White roses grew beneath the windows.

I rang the bell.

Evelyn Carter opened the door.

She looked surprised.

"Ethan?""

"Mrs. Carter. I'm sorry to arrive without calling.""

She studied my face.

"Is Naomi all right?""

"I need to ask you something about my father.""

Her expression changed.

She stepped aside.

"Come in.""

The living room was neat and quiet. A framed photograph of Naomi as a little girl sat on the mantel.

Evelyn poured two cups of tea.

"What happened?"" she asked.

I placed my father's letter on the table.

She read the first paragraph.

Her hands began to shake.

"Where did you get this?""

"From his estate archive.""

She sat down slowly.

"Then he finally told you.""

"Told me what?""

Evelyn looked toward the window.

"Your father and my family knew each other long before you met Naomi.""

I leaned forward.

"How?""

"My husband, Thomas, worked with Robert Mitchell. He was an accountant for one of the early manufacturing projects.""

"Was he involved in the patent agreement?""

"Yes.""

"Did he know my father?""

"Very well.""

She stood and walked toward a wooden cabinet.

From the bottom drawer, she removed a small photograph.

It showed four people standing outside an industrial building.

My father.

Robert Mitchell.

Daniel Price.

And a younger man I recognized as Thomas Carter.

"Your father and Thomas discovered that Robert had been diverting money from the original project," Evelyn explained.

"What happened?""

"They planned to report him.""

"And my mother's accident?""

Evelyn closed her eyes.

"I can't prove Robert arranged it. But your mother believed someone had been following her.""

I felt cold.

"Why didn't anyone tell me?""

"Because your father begged us not to involve you.""

She returned to the table.

"After your mother died, Thomas became frightened. He wanted to cooperate with the investigation, but Daniel convinced him to stay quiet.""

"What happened to him?""

Evelyn's eyes filled.

"He died two years later.""

I lowered my head.

"I'm sorry.""

She nodded.

"Before he died, he told me to protect Naomi.""

I looked up.

"Why Naomi?""

"Because Robert Mitchell had discovered something about our families.""

She opened a small wooden box.

Inside was an old photograph of two babies.

One was Naomi.

The other was me.

I stared.

"What is this?""

"Your mother and I were friends long before you were born. We were pregnant at the same time. Our families were close.""

I looked at the photograph again.

"Why are we in the same picture?""

"Because we used to joke that our children would grow up together.""

A bitter smile crossed her face.

"Your mother held Naomi when she was born. She used to call her our little miracle.""

I couldn't speak.

Evelyn took a breath.

"There's something else. Your father and Thomas discovered that the original patent agreement contained a protective clause. If either family was threatened or defrauded, ownership would revert to the surviving original inventor and his legal heirs.""

"So my father's company can't be transferred without my consent.""

"Not if the original agreement is still valid.""

"Where is it?""

Evelyn looked at the photograph.

"Your mother hid it.""

"Where?""

"She told me once that she placed it somewhere neither Robert nor Daniel would think to look.""

I waited.

"Inside the old factory.""

My phone vibrated.

A message from Naomi.

*Ethan, I know you've spoken to my mother. Please don't believe everything she tells you.*