Chapter 4: The Truth Behind My Sister's Perfect Image
I read Robert's message three times.
Not because I didn't understand the words.
Because I couldn't accept them.
*Your sister didn't start this fight because she wants your apartment.*
*She started it because she knows what your father discovered about her.*
I stared at the screen.
The apartment suddenly felt colder.
For years, I had thought Mia was the spoiled one.
The difficult one.
The person who always needed something.
But I had never imagined there was something hidden underneath all of it.
My first instinct was denial.
My sister could be selfish.
She could be immature.
She could be cruel when she wanted to be.
But a secret serious enough that my father wrote about it?
Serious enough that Karen was willing to challenge my ownership of my own home?
That was different.
I replied to Robert.
*Who are you? And what does my sister know?*
The response came almost immediately.
*Meet me tomorrow. Alone.*
I frowned.
*That doesn't answer my question.*
A few seconds passed.
Then:
*Because the answer is not something I want to put in writing.*
I looked at the message.
Every part of me wanted to call him.
Demand answers.
Force the truth out.
But my father's letter was still sitting beside me.
Do not trust copies.
Do not trust anyone who claims they are acting on my behalf.
Especially if they use guilt as a weapon.
I needed facts.
Not emotions.
Not assumptions.
Facts.
The next morning, I arrived at a small coffee shop twenty minutes away from my apartment.
I chose the location because it was public.
Because after everything that happened, I wasn't taking chances.
Robert Hayes was already sitting in the corner.
I recognized him immediately.
He had worked with my father for almost fifteen years.
I remembered him from family gatherings.
He was always quiet.
Always watching.
When he saw me walk in, he stood.
"Thomas.""
I nodded.
"Robert.""
He looked older than I remembered.
Gray hair.
Tired eyes.
The kind of face that carried too many secrets.
We sat down.
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
Finally, he pushed a folder across the table.
"Before you open that, I need you to understand something.""
I looked at the folder.
"What?""
"Your father loved both his children.""
I nodded slowly.
"Then why does everyone keep acting like Mia is hiding something?""
Robert looked down.
"Because she is.""
The directness of his answer caught me off guard.
I opened the folder.
Inside were copies of bank records.
Legal documents.
Emails.
I looked up.
"What is this?""
"Evidence.""
"Of what?""
Robert leaned forward.
"Of what your father discovered six months before he died.""
My chest tightened.
"What did he discover?""
Robert looked around the coffee shop before answering.
"Your sister was taking money from him.""
I stared at him.
"What?""
"Not once.""
He opened another document.
"Repeated withdrawals.""
I scanned the page.
The numbers blurred for a moment.
"How much?""
Robert hesitated.
"Over forty thousand dollars.""
I sat back.
"No.""
The word came out quietly.
"No, that doesn't make sense.""
Robert didn't argue.
He simply watched me.
"Thomas, your father didn't want to believe it either.""
I looked through the documents again.
There were dates.
Transfers.
Account information.
And Mia's name.
"But why?""
Robert sighed.
"That is the part your father never understood.""
I looked up.
"What do you mean?""
"At first, he thought Mia was in trouble.""
That sounded like her.
A crisis.
A problem.
Something she needed saving from.
"He thought maybe she had debt. Maybe someone was pressuring her.""
Robert paused.
"But then he discovered the money wasn't going toward a problem.""
"Where did it go?""
Robert's expression changed.
"Luxury purchases.""
I felt something sink inside me.
My sister had spent years telling everyone she was struggling.
She had told Karen she needed support.
She had told me she couldn't afford rent.
And meanwhile...
"You're saying she lied?""
Robert didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he pulled out another document.
"This is where things become complicated.""
I looked at the paper.
It was an email.
From my father.
The date was three months before he died.
The subject:
*Concern about Mia.*
I read the first line.
I don't know how to handle this anymore.
My throat tightened.
I continued.
Every time I try to talk to Mia, Karen protects her.
I stopped.
I looked at Robert.
"Karen knew?""
Robert nodded.
"Your father suspected she did.""
I kept reading.
Thomas believes he has to fix everything. I worry that after I am gone, they will depend on him even more.
My hands tightened around the paper.
Even near the end of his life, my father was worried about me.
Not himself.
Me.
Then I reached the final paragraph.
I found evidence that Karen may have helped Mia hide the truth. I need more information before I confront them.
I looked up.
"Did he ever confront them?""
Robert shook his head.
"No.""
"Why not?""
"Because he got sick.""
The anger I felt was complicated.
It wasn't just anger toward Mia.
It wasn't just anger toward Karen.
It was anger because my father had carried this alone.
And I had been completely unaware.
Robert watched me carefully.
"Thomas, there is something else you need to know.""
I looked at him.
"What?""
"The apartment dispute isn't about ownership.""
I frowned.
"What do you mean?""
"Mia doesn't believe she owns your apartment.""
"Then why file a claim?""
Robert folded his hands.
"Because she needs access.""
"Access to what?""
He looked directly at me.
"Your father's trust.""
I went quiet.
The room around me seemed to disappear.
"My father's trust?""
"Your father created a condition.""
"What condition?""
Robert opened the folder again and removed one final document.
"This.""
I read the heading.
*Inheritance Protection Agreement.*
My eyes moved down the page.
Then stopped.
There was a section about my apartment.
A section about Mia.
And a section that made no sense.
*If Thomas Carter maintains ownership of the property and refuses to transfer control, remaining trust assets will be protected from outside claims.*
I looked at Robert.
"What does that mean?""
"It means your father knew someone might try to pressure you into giving up control.""
"Who?""
Robert didn't answer.
He didn't need to.
I already knew.
Karen.
Mia.
But there was one thing I couldn't understand.
"If Mia wants the trust money, why attack me?""
Robert looked at me sadly.
"Because your father made you the person who controls whether she gets it.""
My stomach dropped.
"What?""
"Your father knew Mia had a problem with responsibility. So he created safeguards.""
I leaned forward.
"What safeguards?""
Robert took a deep breath.
"He wanted Mia to prove she could stand on her own before receiving anything.""
I stared at him.
"And I have something to do with that?""
"Yes.""
"How?""
Robert's voice became quieter.
"Your father believed Mia would never change if everyone kept rescuing her.""
I looked away.
Because I knew exactly what he meant.
I had been rescuing her.
Karen had been rescuing her.
Everyone had been rescuing her.
And maybe that was why nothing ever changed.
Then my phone buzzed.
A message from Mia.
I opened it.
*Did Robert tell you about Dad's little plan?*
My eyes narrowed.
She knew.
Again.
A second message appeared.
*He probably made me look like the villain. That's what he always did.*
I stared at the screen.
Then came the third message.
*But if you want the real truth, ask him why Dad was planning to remove you from the trust completely.*
My heart stopped.
I looked at Robert.
He was watching my reaction.
"She knows about the trust," I said.
Robert nodded.
"Yes.""
"She knows everything?""
"No.""
"Then what doesn't she know?""
Robert's face became serious.
"The part your father discovered after creating the trust.""
"What part?""
He leaned closer.
And for the first time since I arrived, I saw something that looked like fear in his eyes.
"Thomas, your father wasn't trying to protect you from Mia.""
I waited.
"He was trying to protect you from what Mia and Karen were planning together.""
I felt the air leave my lungs.
Because suddenly, the question wasn't whether my sister had betrayed me.
It was how long she had been planning to do it.
And when I returned home that afternoon, I found my apartment door unlocked.
Someone had been inside.
And sitting on my kitchen table was another envelope.
May you like
This time, it wasn't from my father.
It was from Mia.
