Chapter 3 - THE SECRET MY FATHER TOOK TO HIS GRAVE
By seven in the morning, I had contacted a lawyer.
Her name was Rachel Bennett.
My father had used her firm years earlier.
I sent her the documents.
She called within fifteen minutes.
“Nolan, where are you?”
“My parents' house.”
“Leave.”
I frowned.
“Why?”
“Because the loan document you sent me isn't a normal loan agreement.”
“What is it?”
“Collateral transfer.”
I looked at Eliza.
Rachel continued.
“If you sign the papers your mother gives you, you may transfer your interest in the warehouse.”
“To whom?”
“I don't know yet.”
“Can you tell who drafted it?”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
There was silence.
Then:
“Mercer Holdings.”
My heart sank.
“My father’s company?”
“No.”
Rachel lowered her voice.
“Your mother incorporated Mercer Holdings six months after your father died.”
I stared at the wall.
“Why wasn't I told?”
“Because you weren't listed as a shareholder.”
“But my father left me half.”
“That depends on the original estate documents.”
“Do you have them?”
“Yes.”
“Bring them.”
“Nolan, listen carefully. Do not confront your mother until we meet.”
“I need answers.”
“You'll get them.”
She paused.
“And Nolan?”
“Yes?”
“Your father amended his will eleven days before his death.”
My blood ran cold.
“What did he change?”
“You'll have to see it yourself.”
I hung up.
Eliza looked terrified.
“What?”
“My father changed his will before he died.”
She whispered:
“That's what Brooke was looking for.”
Before I could ask why, the bedroom door opened.
My mother stood there.
“You've been making calls.”
I turned.
“Yes.”
“To whom?”
“A lawyer.”
Mother's face tightened.
“You don't need a lawyer.”
“I disagree.”
She stepped into the room.
“You're letting this woman destroy our family.”
Eliza stood.
“I didn't destroy anything.”
Mother laughed.
“You've been stealing from us.”
“I never stole anything.”
“Then explain the seventy thousand dollars.”
“I can't explain something I never received.”
Mother looked at me.
“She is manipulating you.”
I pulled out my phone.
“I have video.”
Mother froze.
Brooke appeared behind her.
“What video?”
I pressed play.
Mother watched herself on screen.
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Then Brooke screamed.
“You recorded us!”
“No.”
I held up the memory card.
“Eliza did.”
Mother lunged for it.
I stepped back.
“Don't.”
She stopped.
“You don't understand what you've done.”
“I understand perfectly.”
I looked at Brooke.
“You witnessed a loan you claim Eliza made.”
Brooke's face was pale.
Then Mother said something that changed everything.
“You think your father was innocent?”
I stared at her.
“What?”
“He wasn't the man you believed he was.”
“Explain.”
“He had another family.”
Eliza gasped.
Mother continued.
“Your father had a daughter before he married me.”
I felt numb.
“Where is she?”
Mother shook her head.
“Dead.”
“Name.”
She looked at me.
“Lillian.”
I remembered the photograph.
The unknown woman standing beside my father.
My stomach dropped.
“That's not possible.”
“She died twenty-two years ago.”
“How?”
Mother looked away.
“An accident.”
“What kind?”
“A car accident.”
I stepped closer.
“Who was driving?”
Mother didn't answer.
“Who?”
Her silence was enough.
I whispered:
“You.”
Mother's eyes filled with tears.
“I was trying to protect this family.”
“You killed my father's daughter?”
“I didn't know she was in the car.”
Eliza whispered, “Nolan…”
But I couldn't move.
Everything I believed about my childhood was collapsing.
Mother's voice broke.
“Your father was going to leave me. He wanted to take you and Brooke. He was going to give Lillian part of the company.”
“So you killed her?”
“No.”
“Then what happened?”
“I followed him.”
She began crying.
“There was an argument. I grabbed the steering wheel.”
My stomach twisted.
“The car crashed.”
Mother covered her face.
“Lillian died.”
“And my father?”
“He survived.”
I stared at her.
“How did he die years later?”
Mother didn't answer.
That was when Brooke whispered:
“Mom…”
Mother looked at her.
Brooke's face was terrified.
“You weren't supposed to tell him.”
The room went silent.
I turned toward my sister.
“Tell me what?”
She backed away.
“Nothing.”
“Tell me.”
“I can't.”
“You just admitted there was something to tell.”
She started crying.
And then someone knocked on the front door.
Rachel Bennett had arrived.
May you like
And she wasn't alone.
She was standing beside a police detective.
