Chapter 2: The Secret My Father Left Behind
The signature stared back at me from the bottom of the page.
My father's name.
Daniel Carter.
For several seconds, I couldn't move.
The laptop screen glowed in front of me, forgotten.
The coffee beside my hand went cold.
Because there was one thing I knew with absolute certainty.
My father had been dead for seven years.
And he had never mentioned this document.
Not once.
I picked up the paper again and looked closer.
The signature was slightly faded, but there was no mistaking it.
The same sharp handwriting I remembered from birthday cards.
The same handwriting that filled the old fishing journals he kept in the garage.
My father's handwriting.
I leaned back in my chair.
"What did you do, Dad?""
The apartment suddenly felt different.
A place I had fought so hard to own.
A place I thought represented my independence.
Now it felt like there was a hidden story buried inside the walls.
I grabbed my phone and called the only person who might know something.
My aunt Linda.
My father's younger sister.
She answered after three rings.
"Thomas? Is everything okay?""
I hesitated.
"Did Dad ever talk to you about my apartment?""
There was a long silence.
Not a normal pause.
The kind of silence people make when they know something they don't want to say.
"Why are you asking me that?""
My stomach tightened.
"Because Mia and Karen left paperwork here claiming they have some kind of right to my apartment.""
"What?""
Her voice changed instantly.
"Thomas, listen to me. Don't sign anything.""
"I wasn't planning to.""
"Good.""
I looked down at the document.
"Did you know about this?""
Another pause.
Then she sighed.
"Your father wanted to tell you.""
I froze.
"Tell me what?""
"I thought he would do it himself before he passed away.""
My grip tightened around the phone.
"But he didn't.""
"No.""
Her voice became softer.
"He didn't get the chance.""
I stood up and walked toward the window.
Outside, people moved through the street below.
Cars passed.
Neighbors walked their dogs.
The world continued normally while mine had suddenly shifted.
"What did he want to tell me?""
Linda took a deep breath.
"Thomas, your father was worried about what would happen after he was gone.""
"Why?""
"Because he knew Karen.""
I didn't answer.
I knew exactly what she meant.
My stepmother had always seemed kind on the surface.
She cooked holiday meals.
She smiled in family photos.
She told people she loved us equally.
But there were moments.
Small moments.
Moments where I felt like she saw Mia as her daughter and me as an obligation.
"What does Karen have to do with my apartment?"" I asked.
Linda was quiet.
Then she said something that made my entire body go still.
"Your apartment wasn't supposed to be yours alone.""
I frowned.
"What?""
"Your father helped you buy it.""
I stared at the wall.
"No, he didn't.""
"Thomas—"
"No.""
My voice became sharper.
"I saved every dollar. I made the down payment. I signed the mortgage.""
"Yes," Linda said.
"You did.""
"Then what are you talking about?""
She sighed.
"Your father had an account. A family account. Money he set aside after selling his old business.""
I remembered my father talking about savings.
But I always assumed it was for retirement.
"For years, he planned to help both you and Mia.""
I closed my eyes.
"Both of us?""
"Yes.""
That one sentence bothered me.
Because suddenly I understood.
This wasn't about my apartment.
This was about Mia.
"Mia knows about this money, doesn't she?""
Linda didn't respond.
She didn't need to.
I already knew.
"When did she find out?""
"I don't know.""
"But she knows.""
"Thomas...""
"When?""
Linda exhaled.
"After your father died, Karen found some of his documents.""
I walked back to the kitchen table.
The paperwork was still sitting there.
Waiting.
"What documents?""
"I don't know everything. But I know your father had concerns.""
"About Karen?""
"About how she handled money.""
My heart started beating faster.
"What kind of concerns?""
Linda hesitated.
Then she said:
"Your father believed Mia was being taught that she deserved things she didn't earn.""
I looked at the document again.
Suddenly, every insult made sense.
Every time Mia called me selfish.
Every time Karen told me I should sacrifice more.
They weren't just expecting help.
They believed they were entitled to it.
"Why didn't Dad tell me?""
Linda's voice softened.
"Because he was sick.""
I looked away.
The anger I felt suddenly mixed with something heavier.
Sadness.
My father had always been the person who protected me.
Even when he was gone, he was still trying.
"I found something else," I said.
"What?""
"His signature is on the document.""
Linda became quiet.
"That shouldn't be possible.""
"Why?""
"Because your father never signed anything giving Mia ownership of your apartment.""
I looked down.
The document suddenly felt even more suspicious.
"Then what is this?""
"I don't know.""
A notification appeared on my laptop.
An email.
From an unknown sender.
I ignored it at first.
Then I saw the subject line.
*Your father wanted you to see this.*
My breath caught.
"Thomas?""
I didn't answer.
"Thomas, are you still there?""
I slowly walked toward the laptop.
"I have another message.""
"What message?""
"I don't know yet.""
I opened it.
The email contained only three sentences.
Thomas,
If you are reading this, then they finally showed you the paperwork.
Your father was right to be worried.
My hands went cold.
At the bottom of the email was a name.
A name I recognized.
Someone who had worked with my father for years.
Someone who shouldn't have known anything about this.
I whispered the name.
"Robert Hayes.""
Linda immediately reacted.
"Thomas, don't contact him.""
I looked confused.
"Why?""
"Because if he sent that message, it means he waited until now.""
"Waited for what?""
The line went silent.
Then Linda said something that made my blood run cold.
"Until Karen and Mia thought they had already won.""
I stared at the screen.
The apartment was quiet.
Too quiet.
Then my phone buzzed.
A text message.
From Mia.
I opened it.
*Hope you enjoyed your little investigation. You should ask your aunt why Dad never trusted you with the truth.*
I read it twice.
Then a second message appeared.
*Actually... you should ask her why your father left something important to me instead.*
My heart sank.
Because Mia wasn't guessing.
She knew.
She knew exactly what I had found.
And that meant someone had been watching me long before I discovered the paperwork.
I looked around my apartment.
At the walls.
The furniture.
The place I thought was mine.
Then I noticed something sitting near the front door.
Something that hadn't been there when I came home.
A small brown envelope.
With my father's handwriting on the front.
May you like
And three words written across it:
*For Thomas. Open alone.*
