Chapter 3: The Secret My Father Buried
I left the lawyer's office with a folder full of documents and a feeling I couldn't quite describe.
Anger.
Confusion.
Betrayal.
All three seemed to be fighting inside my chest.
My mother had left me money.
She had left me a business.
She had made arrangements to protect both.
And somehow, my father and Vanessa had been using those arrangements as though they belonged to them.
I sat on a bench outside the building and called Mr. Harrison again.
He answered immediately.
“Have you forgotten something, Nia?””
“Yes. I need to ask you something.””
“Go ahead.””
“Can my father legally take money from the trust?””
“Only for purposes permitted under the trust agreement. Every withdrawal must be documented and justified.””
“What about Vanessa?””
“She had no independent authority over the account.””
I looked at the paperwork.
“Then why is her name on the withdrawals?””
“That is one of the questions we're examining.””
I swallowed.
“Can I have copies of everything?””
“Absolutely. But I need you to understand something. We won't accuse anyone until we have verified the records.””
“I understand.””
“And Nia?””
“Yes?””
“Don't let anyone pressure you into signing anything.””
I thought about Vanessa.
“I won't.””
When I arrived home, the house smelled of roasted chicken and expensive perfume.
Vanessa was arranging flowers on the dining table.
Brianna sat on the couch, scrolling through her phone.
My father was in the kitchen.
“Nia!”” Vanessa called.
“There you are.””
I stopped.
“Where have you been?””
“Library.””
She looked at the folder under my arm.
“What is that?””
“Schoolwork.””
“Since when do you carry schoolwork in a folder?””
I walked toward the stairs.
“Nia, I'm talking to you.””
I stopped.
“I'm tired.””
She gave me a tight smile.
“Your father and I need to discuss something with you.””
I glanced toward Dad.
He was standing near the kitchen counter.
“What?””
Vanessa placed a large envelope on the table.
“Your graduation expenses.””
I frowned.
“What about them?””
“Your father and I have decided that we need to make some financial adjustments.””
I looked at Dad.
He didn't meet my eyes.
Vanessa opened the envelope.
Inside was a printed document.
“Your grandmother left some old financial paperwork in the house, and we need your signature to organize it.””
I felt my stomach tighten.
“What paperwork?””
“Nothing complicated.””
She slid it toward me.
I didn't touch it.
“Let me read it.””
Vanessa laughed.
“Honestly, Nia. Why are you suddenly acting like a lawyer?””
“Because I want to know what I'm signing.””
Dad finally spoke.
“She's right. Let her read it.””
Vanessa looked at him.
“Marcus, it's a simple authorization.””
I picked up the first page.
The title read:
AUTHORIZATION FOR PROPERTY MANAGEMENT AND TRANSFER.
My eyes moved down the page.
The property address was familiar.
It was the building in my mother's photograph.
Elena Carter Designs.
The document stated that I was voluntarily authorizing the transfer of management rights to Vanessa Carter.
It also included a clause allowing the appointed representative to sell or lease the property without further consent.
I put the paper down.
“I'm not signing this.””
Vanessa's smile disappeared.
“Why not?””
“Because it gives you control over Mom's building.””
She stared at me.
“Your mother doesn't need a building anymore.””
My blood went cold.
“Don't say that.””
“I'm simply being practical.””
“It's mine.””
Vanessa laughed.
“According to whom?””
I pulled the lawyer's folder closer to my chest.
“According to the trust documents.””
Dad's head snapped up.
“What trust documents?””
The room went silent.
I looked directly at him.
“The trust Mom established for me.””
Dad's face changed.
For the first time, he looked genuinely afraid.
Vanessa noticed.
“What is she talking about, Marcus?””
He stared at me.
“Where did you get those documents?””
“From Mom's sewing box.””
His jaw tightened.
“Give them to me.””
“No.””
“Nia.””
“I said no.””
Vanessa stood.
“Marcus, what is going on?””
Dad looked at her.
“Not now.””
She folded her arms.
“Don't tell me not now. What trust?””
I opened the folder.
“Eighty-six thousand four hundred dollars. That's what Mom had saved for me.””
Vanessa went pale.
Brianna stopped scrolling.
“What?””
I continued.
“And she left me the sewing studio. She made sure it would belong to me when I turned eighteen.””
Dad took a step toward me.
“Listen to me. Those arrangements were made a long time ago.””
“They were made by my mother.””
“You don't understand the circumstances.””
“Then explain them.””
He looked at Vanessa.
She looked away.
I held up the bank statement.
“Why did you tell me the money was spent on household expenses?””
Dad rubbed his face.
“Things were difficult after your mother died.””
“Where did the money go?””
“I was trying to keep the family together.””
“Where did it go, Dad?””
Vanessa interrupted.
“Marcus had responsibilities. We all did. You were a child. You didn't understand how expensive this house was.””
I turned toward her.
“You weren't even married to Dad when Mom died.””
She stiffened.
“Excuse me?””
“You had no right to touch her money.””
Vanessa stepped closer.
“You need to remember who provides for you.””
I laughed quietly.
“My mother provided for me.””
Her face twisted.
“Your mother is dead.””
Dad slammed his hand against the counter.
“Vanessa!””
But the damage was done.
I looked at him.
He was standing there, silent and pale.
And I realized something.
He wasn't surprised by the trust.
He had known.
All along.
“You knew Mom had left me that money,” I whispered.
Dad looked down.
“Yes.””
“And you let me believe it was gone?””
“I was going to explain.””
“When?””
He said nothing.
“When I turned eighteen? When the money was gone? When you sold the building?””
His eyes lifted.
“I never intended to sell it.””
I pointed at the document on the table.
“Then why is Vanessa asking me to sign it?””
Vanessa snatched the paper.
“Because the property needs proper management!””
“By you?””
“Your father and I have been handling it for years.””
“Using my mother's property?””
She laughed.
“You should be grateful. We kept the building running.””
I stared at her.
“Then where is the rent money?””
Nobody answered.
Brianna slowly stood from the couch.
“Mom, what's she talking about?””
Vanessa turned.
“Stay out of this.””
“But she said there's money.””
“Brianna!””
I looked at my stepsister.
For once, she didn't look amused.
She looked confused.
I returned my attention to Dad.
“I'm meeting the lawyer again tomorrow.””
His face tightened.
“You don't need to involve lawyers in family matters.””
“It's already a legal matter.””
“Nia, please.””
He approached me.
“Let's sit down and talk.””
I stepped back.
“You had six years to talk.””
I walked upstairs.
Behind me, Vanessa's voice rose.
“Marcus, you need to do something about her!””
Dad didn't answer.
I locked my bedroom door.
Then I opened the folder and took out the documents.
There was one page I hadn't fully examined.
It was a transaction authorization dated two months earlier.
The amount was $24,000.
The recipient was listed as a private account.
I read the name.
Brianna Carter.
My stomach dropped.
I stared at the paper.
Twenty-four thousand dollars.
My mother's money.
Transferred to my stepsister.
I took a photograph.
Then another.
I emailed both to Mr. Harrison.
A few minutes later, he called.
“Nia, where did you find this?””
“In the documents you gave me.””
“Listen carefully. Do not confront anyone about that particular transaction yet.””
“Why?””
“Because the account number is connected to something else we're investigating.””
“What?””
He paused.
Then he spoke slowly.
“The transfer may not have been made for Brianna's benefit alone.””
I gripped the phone.
“What does that mean?””
“It means we need to establish who actually controlled the receiving account.””
I looked at the wall.
“Can you find out?””
“We're already requesting the records.””
I closed my eyes.
Then I heard Brianna laughing in the hallway.
She was talking to Vanessa.
“Mom, did you see the comments on my dress video? Everyone loves it!””
Vanessa laughed.
“Of course they do, sweetheart. It's practically designer quality.””
I looked down at the photographs of my original sketches.
Brianna was showing off my work.
She was accepting compliments for a gown she hadn't made.
And my mother's money had apparently helped pay for something connected to her.
I sent Mr. Harrison one final message.
Please don't tell my father anything until we know the truth.
His reply came immediately.
Agreed.
I put my phone down.
Then I heard a knock.
“Nia?””
It was Dad.
“Can we talk?””
I didn't answer.
He knocked again.
“Please open the door.””
I unlocked it.
Dad stood outside holding a small jewelry box.
“What is that?””
He stepped inside.
“Something your mother wanted you to have.””
My heart began to beat faster.
He opened the box.
Inside was a gold necklace with a tiny silver sewing machine pendant.
I recognized it immediately.
My mother used to wear it every day.
I reached for it.
Dad closed the box.
“I'll give it to you when you stop making trouble.””
I stared at him.
“You're holding Mom's necklace hostage?””
“I'm trying to make you understand how complicated things are.””
“No. You're trying to make me quiet.””
His expression hardened.
“You have no idea what Vanessa and I have sacrificed for you.””
I looked at the box.
“Then why are you afraid of a lawyer?””
Dad said nothing.
He walked toward the door.
Just before leaving, he turned around.
“There's something you need to know about your mother, Nia.””
I waited.
“She didn't leave you that business because she thought you were talented.””
My fingers went cold.
“What?””
Dad looked at me.
“She left it because she knew what was coming.””
May you like
Then he closed the door.
And for the first time, I wondered whether my mother had discovered something about Vanessa long before I did.
