Chapter 4: The Night My Grandfather Died
I drove to Eleanor's apartment before sunrise.
Victoria's final words had followed me all night.
Ask your mother what she did the night your grandfather died.
I had replayed them so many times that I could almost hear her breathing between each word.
When Eleanor opened the door, she was wearing an old blue sweater and holding a cup of tea.
She smiled when she saw me.
“Marcus. You're here early.””
I stepped inside.
“We need to talk.””
Her smile disappeared.
“Is something wrong?””
I placed my phone on the kitchen table and played the recording of my conversation with Victoria.
Eleanor listened without interrupting.
When Victoria mentioned the night my grandfather died, the cup in Eleanor's hand began trembling.
Tea spilled over the rim.
“Mom?””
She placed the cup down.
“Where did you get that?””
“Victoria told me to ask you.””
Eleanor closed her eyes.
“I knew this day would come.””
My stomach tightened.
“What happened that night?””
She walked toward the window.
For several seconds, she watched the traffic below.
Then she turned around.
“Your grandfather called me at eleven forty-five that night. He said he needed to see me urgently.””
“Why?””
“He had discovered something about Richard and Victoria.””
I pulled out a chair.
“What?””
“Your father had been transferring money from the company. But that wasn't the worst part. Your grandfather had discovered that Victoria was helping him.””
I nodded.
“I know about the forged documents.””
Eleanor looked surprised.
“You do?””
“Patricia showed me the bank authorization.””
Her face went pale.
“Then you know why I went to your grandfather.””
“Not everything.””
She sat opposite me.
“Your grandfather wanted to change the trust. He wanted to remove Richard as trustee and appoint an independent administrator. He also wanted me to become your legal guardian if anything happened to him.””
I stared at her.
“He wanted you to raise me?””
“Yes.””
“Why didn't he?””
Her eyes filled.
“Because he died before he could sign the final documents.””
I leaned forward.
“What happened when you got there?””
Eleanor pressed her fingers together.
“Your grandfather was in his study. He looked frightened. He told me he had found evidence that Richard and Victoria had been using your inheritance to purchase properties under different company names.””
“Did he show you?””
“Yes. He gave me a folder.””
“Where is it?””
She shook her head.
“I don't know anymore.””
I stared at her.
“What do you mean?””
“That night, Richard arrived unexpectedly. He saw me leaving the study with the folder. He grabbed my arm and demanded to know what your grandfather had told me.””
“What did you do?””
“I ran.””
Her voice cracked.
“I was terrified. I knew he would destroy the evidence if he got it.””
I rubbed my forehead.
“Where did you go?””
“To the hospital.””
I looked up.
“What?””
“Your grandfather had collapsed shortly after I left. The housekeeper called an ambulance. I followed them.””
“Was he alive?””
Eleanor nodded slowly.
“When I arrived, he was conscious. He held my hand and told me something I have never forgotten.””
She looked directly at me.
“He said, 'Don't let them take Marcus's future.''”
My throat tightened.
“What happened next?””
“He died forty minutes later.””
I sat motionless.
My grandfather had died knowing someone was stealing from his family.
And my mother had been the last person he trusted.
“Why didn't you tell the police?””
“I tried.””
“What?””
Eleanor's voice became barely audible.
“Richard told them I had stolen confidential documents from the company. He said I had been threatening your grandfather for months. He even showed them a letter supposedly written by him.””
“That was a lie.””
“I know.””
She wiped her eyes.
“But the police questioned me. Then your father told me that if I continued making accusations, he would make sure you were placed in a boarding school and I would never see you again.””
I stood abruptly.
“So you gave up?””
“No!””
Her voice startled me.
She rose from the chair.
“I never gave up on you, Marcus. I went to your school every week. I waited outside the gates.
I sent birthday cards. I stood across the street from your father's house just to see you playing in the yard.””
Her hands covered her mouth.
“Sometimes I saw you riding your bicycle. Sometimes I saw you sitting beside Victoria in the garden. I wanted to run toward you so badly.””
I felt something break inside me.
“Why didn't you come?””
“Because your father had people watching me. And because I was afraid that one reckless decision would make it impossible for me to see you ever again.””
I lowered my head.
For twenty-five years, I had imagined a mother who simply didn't care.
Instead, there had been a woman standing outside my childhood, watching me grow up without her.
I couldn't forgive my father.
But I couldn't immediately forgive the years either.
“Do you still have anything from that night?”” I asked.
Eleanor hesitated.
Then she stood and walked toward her bedroom.
She returned carrying a small wooden box.
Inside were old photographs, folded letters, and a hospital visitor's badge.
She removed a yellowed photograph.
It showed my grandfather sitting in his study.
Behind him stood a large wooden bookcase.
I frowned.
“What am I looking at?””
Eleanor pointed to the bottom shelf.
“Your grandfather had a hidden compartment there. He used to keep important documents inside it.””
“Did you ever open it?””
“No. Richard changed the locks after the funeral.””
I studied the photograph.
There was something else.
On the desk, beside my grandfather's hand, sat a small brass key.
I enlarged the image on my phone.
A number was engraved on it.
*417.*
I looked at Eleanor.
“Did you ever see this key again?””
She shook her head.
“No.””
I took a photograph of the photograph.
Then I called Patricia.
She answered almost immediately.
“Marcus?””
“I need to ask you something. Did my grandfather have a safe deposit box?””
Patricia went quiet.
Then she said, “Yes.””
“Where?””
“At First National Bank.””
“Do you know the number?””
“I believe it was four hundred and seventeen.””
My blood ran cold.
I looked at Eleanor.
She was already crying.
But before I could say another word, Patricia spoke again.
“Marcus, there's a problem.””
“What problem?””
“The bank contacted me three months ago. Someone had already accessed that box.””
“Who?””
May you like
Patricia lowered her voice.
“Your stepmother, Victoria.””
