Chapter 7
I had not seen Uncle Thomas in seven years.
Not since my mother's funeral.
My last memory of him was strange.
Everyone wore black.
Dad stood beside the grave looking like part of him had been buried too.
Thomas had grabbed his shoulder and whispered something.
Dad pushed him away.
I didn't know why.
A week later, Thomas disappeared from our lives.
Whenever I asked, Dad said only one thing.
“Some people become dangerous when they decide your pain belongs to them.”
At seventeen, I finally understood that answer had hidden an entire story.
Dad held the contract.
His hand shook.
“Tell me.”
“Not now.”
“No.”
“Emma.”
“You don't get to say not now after somebody uses Mom's dying photo against us.”
He closed his eyes.
Police officers pretended not to listen.
Noah wasn't there.
Madison was still missing.
Everything felt wrong.
Dad finally sat.
“Thomas and I founded Bennett Technologies together.”
I knew that part.
Or thought I did.
“He left before the company became successful.”
“Why?”
“He didn't leave.”
Dad looked at me.
“I forced him out.”
I stayed silent.
“He was stealing.”
“How much?”
“At first, small amounts.”
Dad laughed bitterly.
“Or what seemed small compared to the company.”
“What happened?”
“I confronted him.”
“And?”
“He blamed your mother.”
My chest tightened.
“Mom?”
“She handled our books back then.”
I had never known that.
“She discovered irregular transfers.”
Dad stared at the table.
“Thomas said she was trying to turn me against him.”
“Did you believe him?”
“For one day.”
The shame in his voice hurt.
“One day too long.”
“What did he do?”
“He forged her signature on financial documents.”
My stomach turned.
“Why?”
“To make it look like she was responsible.”
“That sounds familiar.”
Dad looked at the fake contract.
“Yes.”
The same pattern.
Create evidence.
Turn people against each other.
Control the story.
“What happened after you caught him?”
“I bought out his shares for more money than they were worth.”
“Why?”
“Because he was my brother.”
Dad laughed without humor.
“I thought money could make him go away peacefully.”
“It didn't.”
“No.”
“What does this have to do with Mom's funeral?”
Dad's eyes changed.
That was the question he had been avoiding.
“Thomas came to the hospital during her last week.”
My chest tightened.
“I don't remember.”
“You were with your grandmother.”
“What happened?”
“He wanted your mother to sign a statement.”
“What statement?”
“Saying she had misunderstood the financial records years earlier.”
“While she was dying?”
Dad nodded.
Rage hit me.
“Why?”
“Because he wanted to return to the company.”
I could barely speak.
“And she refused.”
“Yes.”
“What did he do?”
Dad looked away.
“He told her I blamed her.”
I stopped breathing.
“What?”
“He told your mother I secretly believed she had destroyed our family.”
My eyes burned.
“Why would he say that?”
“To hurt her.”
Dad's voice cracked.
“And because hurting her hurt me.”
I thought about the photograph.
Mom in that hospital bed.
Weak.
Exhausted.
Had Thomas been there that day?
Had he taken it?
“Did he take the photo?”
“I don't know.”
The detective stepped closer.
“We can investigate that.”
Dad nodded.
I felt sick.
Thomas hadn't disappeared.
He had simply waited.
Then an officer's phone rang.
Everyone watched his expression change.
He hung up.
“They found Madison.”
I stood so fast my chair fell.
“Where?”
“South Station.”
“Is she okay?”
“Yes.”
“Victoria?”
“Gone.”
Madison had escaped.
She told police her mother forced her into a car near the harbor.
Victoria wanted to know where the hidden files were.
Madison lied.
Said she didn't know.
When Victoria stopped at a parking garage to meet someone, Madison ran.
The man Victoria met disappeared before police arrived.
But Madison saw him.
And when officers showed her a photograph of Thomas Bennett, she identified him.
Dad left the room.
I followed.
“Dad.”
He kept walking.
“Dad!”
He stopped in the hallway.
“I should have stopped him years ago.”
“You did.”
“No.”
He turned.
“I paid him to disappear.”
“You couldn't know this would happen.”
“I knew what he was.”
“So?”
“So I chose quiet over consequences.”
His words sounded familiar.
For months, I had done the same thing.
Walked away.
Stayed quiet.
Hoped cruel people would eventually get bored.
Sometimes they didn't.
Sometimes silence became room for them to grow.
I touched Dad's arm.
“We're stopping him now.”
He looked at me.
“We?”
“Yes.”
“No.”
Despite everything, I almost smiled.
“Worth trying.”
Madison returned to her aunt's house under police protection.
She asked to see me.
Dad said absolutely not.
Then he drove me there himself.
Her aunt's living room was small and warm.
Nothing like the Carter mansion.
Madison sat on the couch wrapped in a blanket.
When she saw me, she stood.
“Hey.”
“Hey.”
Awkward silence.
Then she said, “I really was spying on you.”
“I know.”
“I thought my mom would forgive me if I helped her.”
“For what?”
Madison laughed bitterly.
“For existing wrong.”
I didn't understand.
She saw that.
“My mom wanted a son.”
“Oh.”
“She reminded me whenever she was angry.”
I sat across from her.
“That doesn't excuse what you did.”
“I know.”
“You keep saying that.”
“Because I'm not asking you to excuse it.”
Her eyes filled.
“I just don't want to lie anymore.”
I believed her.
Not completely.
But enough to listen.
“Why did you keep some files?”
“To protect myself.”
“From your mother?”
“From everyone.”
She pulled the blanket tighter.
“There's another thing.”
My stomach sank.
“There always is.”
She almost smiled.
Then her expression turned serious.
“My mother and your uncle weren't just working together.”
“What do you mean?”
“They were…”
She hesitated.
“Together.”
I stared.
“Romantically?”
“Yes.”
“For how long?”
“I don't know. Years maybe.”
That explained secrecy.
Maybe.
“Did your father know?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“I thought I was.”
The front door opened.
Charles Carter entered.
He looked terrible.
Unshaven.
Wrinkled shirt.
No expensive jacket.
He saw me.
Then Madison.
His face hardened.
“You shouldn't be talking about family matters.”
Madison went rigid.
I noticed instantly.
Charles pointed upstairs.
“Go pack.”
“Why?”
“We're going home.”
“Aunt Rachel said I could stay.”
“I am your father.”
Madison didn't move.
Charles looked at me.
“Emma, please leave.”
I stood.
Then Madison whispered, “Ask him about the contract.”
Charles froze.
I turned.
“What contract?”
Madison's eyes never left her father.
“The real one.”
Charles went pale.
“What are you talking about?”
“You know.”
“Madison.”
“The one you signed with Thomas Bennett.”
My heart pounded.
Charles looked at me.
“The document they found?”
“No,” Madison said.
She stood.
“That one is fake.”
The room went silent.
I stared at her.
“What?”
“My mom created it.”
Charles closed his eyes.
“Madison, stop.”
“No.”
She looked at me.
“The signature is my dad's, but the contract isn't real.”
I felt lost.
“How?”
“She had him sign blank pages.”
Charles sank into a chair.
Madison continued.
“But there is a real agreement.”
“Between who?”
She looked at her father.
“Tell her.”
Charles said nothing.
“Dad!”
He rubbed his face.
Then looked at me.
“The real agreement was between me and Daniel.”
I felt my stomach drop.
“My father?”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Emma—”
“What agreement?”
Charles swallowed.
“Ten years ago, your father secretly invested in my company.”
I stared.
“He told me he never did.”
“This was before the company began failing.”
“Why was it secret?”
Charles hesitated.
Madison answered for him.
“Because the money didn't come from Bennett Technologies.”
Charles looked at her sharply.
I whispered, “Where did it come from?”
Charles looked at me.
“Your mother's trust.”
Everything inside me stopped.
“What?”
“Your mother invested in Carter Holdings.”
I shook my head.
“No.”
“She did.”
“Why?”
Charles looked ashamed.
“Because I asked her.”
I stepped backward.
“You knew my mother?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
He looked toward the floor.
May you like
Then whispered the sentence that changed everything.
“Before she married Daniel, she was engaged to me.”
