Chapter 4: What My Mother Knew Before She Died
I stood halfway up the staircase, gripping the wooden railing so tightly that my fingers began to hurt.
Vanessa's words echoed through the hallway.
"Your first wife didn't leave Maya all that money by accident. She knew something about me before she died.""
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Then Dad asked, "What exactly are you saying?""
Vanessa laughed nervously.
"Nothing. I'm saying she never trusted me. She made sure you understood that, didn't she?""
"Answer the question.""
"Daniel, your wife was suspicious of everyone. She thought the world was out to get her.""
My mother's name wasn't mentioned, but I felt as though Vanessa had slapped her.
I stepped down one stair.
"Don't talk about my mother like that.""
Both adults turned.
Vanessa looked annoyed.
"Maya, this is a private conversation.""
"Then stop talking about my mother.""
Dad raised one hand.
"Sweetheart, come downstairs.""
I walked into the living room.
Vanessa was standing beside the sofa, holding her phone. Dad stood near the dining table, his shoulders rigid.
"What did Mom know?"" I asked.
Vanessa rolled her eyes.
"Nothing that concerns you.""
Dad's voice sharpened.
"She deserves an answer.""
Vanessa looked at him.
"Your wife thought I was stealing from her.""
Dad went still.
"What?""
"She accused me of taking things from the house. She said I was interested in your money. She even told me she would make sure I never had access to Maya's inheritance.""
I stared at her.
"My mother never said anything about you.""
Vanessa gave me a cold smile.
"Of course she didn't. She died before you were old enough to understand what was happening.""
Dad walked toward her.
"Did you and my wife have an argument before she died?""
Vanessa hesitated.
"Not an argument.""
"Then what?""
"She confronted me.""
The room seemed to shrink.
"About what?"" Dad asked.
Vanessa looked toward the front window.
"She thought I had taken something from her sewing room.""
My heart skipped.
"Mom's sewing room?""
Vanessa nodded.
"Some jewelry was missing. She accused me of taking it.""
Dad shook his head.
"That's not true.""
"How would you know?""
"Because I found the jewelry six months later in a box of winter clothes. Your accusation was ridiculous.""
Vanessa's face reddened.
"Well, she still accused me.""
I remembered something.
A small wooden box.
My mother had kept it in the top drawer of her sewing cabinet. It contained a silver bracelet, a pair of pearl earrings, and a necklace with a tiny moon-shaped pendant.
After Mom died, I had asked Dad where the necklace went.
He told me he couldn't find it.
I looked at Vanessa.
"Did you take Mom's necklace?""
Her eyes narrowed.
"Don't start.""
"Did you?""
"That was years ago.""
Dad turned sharply.
"What does that mean?""
Vanessa looked cornered.
"I found it in the bathroom. I thought it was abandoned.""
"You told me you never saw it.""
"Daniel, I was trying to avoid another argument!""
Dad's jaw tightened.
"Where is it?""
Vanessa didn't answer.
He picked up his phone.
"You're going to tell me.""
She shook her head.
"This is insane. You are destroying our marriage over a necklace and a bank document.""
"No," Dad said.
"You are destroying it by lying.""
I stood silently, feeling as though the floor beneath my feet had disappeared.
My mother had been gone for five years.
And Vanessa had been carrying pieces of her life around like they were things she had simply forgotten to return.
Dad called the attorney again.
This time, he asked him to come immediately.
An hour later, a woman named Rebecca Collins arrived carrying a leather briefcase.
She was Dad's attorney and had helped him establish the trust after Mom died.
She listened carefully while Dad explained the attempted withdrawal and forged signature.
Then she examined the bank documents.
"Has the bank confirmed who submitted this?"" she asked.
"Not yet," Dad replied.
Rebecca looked at Vanessa.
"Mrs. Whitmore, did you authorize the transaction?""
Vanessa crossed her arms.
"I've already explained that I was trying to help both girls.""
"That wasn't my question.""
Vanessa looked away.
Rebecca placed the document on the table.
"This form contains a request to change the beneficiary from Maya Carter to Vanessa Whitmore. It also contains a signature that appears to have been copied.""
Brielle, who had been sitting quietly near the staircase, began crying again.
Rebecca noticed.
"Is there something else we should know?""
Dad answered.
"Brielle says her mother instructed her to copy Maya's signature.""
Rebecca looked at the teenager.
"Brielle, did you understand what you were signing?""
Brielle shook her head.
"No. I thought it was a permission form.""
"Did your mother tell you to do it?""
"Yes.""
Vanessa stood abruptly.
"You're not going to interrogate my daughter!""
Rebecca closed the folder.
"I'm not interrogating anyone. I'm trying to understand what happened.""
Dad looked at Vanessa.
"You need to cooperate.""
Vanessa laughed bitterly.
"Of course. Everyone believes the dead woman and the innocent little girl.""
I felt my face burn.
Dad stepped forward.
"Don't.""
But Vanessa continued.
"Your first wife controlled everything. Even after she died, she made sure I would never have anything in this family.""
Rebecca slowly opened another section of her briefcase.
"Actually, there's something we should discuss.""
Dad turned.
"What?""
Rebecca removed an envelope.
It was yellowed around the edges and sealed with a strip of transparent tape.
On the front, in familiar handwriting, were the words:
*For Daniel. Only if Vanessa ever tries to access Maya's trust.*
My knees nearly gave way.
I recognized the handwriting immediately.
My mother's.
Dad stared at the envelope.
"Where did you get that?""
"Your wife gave it to me five years ago. She instructed me to keep it sealed unless certain conditions occurred.""
Dad took it with trembling hands.
He looked at me.
Then he carefully opened it.
Inside was a handwritten letter and a small photograph.
He read the first few lines.
Then his face lost all color.
"What is it?"" I whispered.
He didn't answer.
Rebecca leaned forward.
"Daniel?""
Dad turned the photograph over.
On the back, my mother had written a date.
It was dated three weeks before she died.
May you like
And beside the date were five words that made Dad sit down.
*Vanessa knows about the first account.*
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