Chapter 4: The Woman in the Will
Dad read the message twice.
Then he looked at Jordan.
“Call the police.””
Mom immediately stood up.
“No!””
Dad turned.
“Why not?””
“Because we don't know who sent that message.””
“Someone is threatening my children.””
“Marcus, please. We don't even know whether it's real.””
Jordan held up his phone.
“It's real enough to have my number.””
I stared at the message.
The woman in the will.
Who was she?
Grandpa had been married to Grandma for forty years. She had died before him.
There hadn't been another woman.
At least, not one we'd ever heard about.
Dad walked toward the window and called someone.
I couldn't hear every word, but I caught enough.
“Unauthorized transfer.””
“Possible identity theft.””
“Documents connected to my late father's estate.””
When he ended the call, Mom was sitting with both hands clasped tightly in her lap.
“Marcus,” she said, “we need to talk privately.””
“No.””
“Please.””
“Whatever you have to say, say it in front of our children.””
Mom looked at me.
“Maya, sweetheart, why don't you go upstairs?””
I shook my head.
“No.””
“Maya—”
“I've been told to leave every time something important happens in this family. I'm not doing it again.””
Jordan gave a small nod.
“She's right.””
Dad sat down.
“Denise, who is the woman in the will?””
Mom stared at the floor.
“I don't know her personally.””
“What does that mean?””
“She was someone your father knew.””
Dad's jaw tightened.
“How well?””
“I don't know.””
“Denise.””
Mom wiped her face.
“Robert told me he had made a promise to a woman years before he met your mother.””
Dad stood up.
“What promise?””
“He said he had a daughter.””
The room went silent.
I heard the refrigerator humming in the kitchen.
Somewhere outside, a car horn sounded.
Dad stared at Mom as if he hadn't understood the words.
“My father had another daughter?””
Mom nodded.
“He told me she was born before he married your mother.””
Jordan slowly sat down.
“And nobody thought to tell us?””
Mom shook her head.
“He said the woman had disappeared from his life. He didn't know where she was.””
Dad looked furious.
“Then why is she in the will?””
“Because he found her again.””
I stared at her.
“When?””
“About a year before he died.””
Dad walked away.
He pressed both hands against the back of his neck.
“Who is she?””
Mom whispered, “Her name is Evelyn.””
Jordan opened his phone again.
“Evelyn what?””
Mom shook her head.
“I don't remember.””
Dad turned.
“You're telling me you knew my father had another daughter, knew he left her money, and never told me?””
“I was trying to protect you.””
“From what?””
Mom's voice cracked.
“From the fact that your father wasn't the man you thought he was.””
Dad laughed bitterly.
“He was my father. I knew he wasn't perfect.””
“No, Marcus. You don't understand.””
She looked at him.
“He didn't just leave money to Evelyn. He made her a beneficiary of the company.””
Jordan's eyes widened.
“What?””
Mom nodded.
“He said she had a right to a portion of everything he built.””
Dad shook his head.
“That's impossible. I inherited the company.””
“You inherited the management.””
Mom's words seemed to hit him physically.
He gripped the chair.
“Explain.””
She reached for her handbag and pulled out a small envelope.
The paper was yellowed.
The edges were soft from being handled.
“Your father gave me this before he died.””
Dad stared at it.
“Why didn't you give it to me?””
“Because he told me not to.””
“He's dead, Denise!””
“I know!””
Her voice broke.
For the first time, she shouted back.
“I know he's dead, Marcus! I have lived with this for six years!””
She pushed the envelope across the table.
Dad opened it.
Inside was a handwritten letter.
The first few lines were enough to change his expression.
He read silently.
Then he started again.
“What does it say?”” Jordan asked.
Dad didn't answer.
He turned the page over.
There was a photograph.
A young woman standing beside Grandpa.
She had dark hair, a wide smile, and a small birthmark beneath her left eye.
I leaned forward.
“Is that Evelyn?””
Mom nodded.
Dad stared at the photograph.
“She looks familiar.””
Jordan took the picture.
He studied it.
Then his expression changed.
“Wait.””
“What?”” I asked.
He looked at Mom.
“Why does she look like Maya?””
I snatched the photograph.
My stomach dropped.
The woman had my eyes.
My nose.
Even the same little birthmark.
I touched my face.
“That's not possible.””
Mom started crying harder.
Dad took the picture back.
“Denise, tell me what you know.””
Mom looked at me.
Then at Jordan.
Then at Dad.
“Your father told me something else.””
“What?””
“He said Evelyn had a child.””
I swallowed.
“Who?””
Mom couldn't look at me.
“A daughter.””
Dad frowned.
“Where is she?””
Mom whispered, “She was adopted.””
My heart began pounding.
“When?””
“Twenty-three years ago.””
The photograph slipped from my fingers.
Jordan looked at me.
I looked at Mom.
Then I laughed.
A short, frightened sound.
“No.””
Mom covered her mouth.
“Maya—”
“No. Don't.””
Dad slowly stood up.
“Denise, what are you saying?””
Mom's eyes filled.
She reached toward me.
“Maya, there's something about your birth that you need to understand.””
I backed away.
“Stop.””
“Baby, please.””
“Stop calling me that!””
Jordan caught my arm when I stumbled.
Dad's voice was almost a whisper.
“Is Maya Evelyn's daughter?””
Mom nodded.
May you like
And then she said something that made the entire room go silent.
“I adopted Maya because your father begged me to.””
