Chapter 9: The Secret Behind Emily's Engagement
Mom didn't answer.
She simply stared at the paper in Emily's hand.
Richard took it and examined the entry.
“Three weeks ago,” he repeated.
His voice was almost a whisper.
“Michael has been alive this entire time?””
Mom sat down heavily in Dad's old leather chair.
“I told you. I don't know where he is.””
Richard placed the ledger on the desk.
“Then explain these payments.””
She rubbed her forehead.
“I was told to make them.””
“By whom?””
She didn't respond.
I moved closer.
“Mom, you told us Dad left almost nothing. You told me the trust was empty. You told everyone Thomas Reed stole from the business.””
Mom looked up.
“Your father was trying to fix everything before he died.””
“By hiding money?””
“He was trying to save your future.””
“Whose future?””
She looked toward Emily.
“Emily's.””
Emily shook her head.
“Stop using me as an excuse.””
Mom's expression softened.
“Sweetheart, I did everything for you.””
“You made me believe Sarah didn't care about me.””
“That's not true.””
“You told me she never helped with tuition. You said she only gave me money because she wanted control over my life.””
I looked at my sister.
I hadn't known Mom had told her those things.
Emily continued.
“You said Sarah was jealous because I was getting married into a wealthy family.””
Mom stood.
“You have no idea what you're talking about.””
“Then why did you make me sign those documents?””
Mom's eyes narrowed.
“What documents?””
“The ones in your bedroom. The bank authorization forms. The beneficiary papers.””
I watched Mom's face.
She knew exactly what Emily meant.
“Those were routine documents.””
“You said they were tax forms!””
“They were necessary for your future.””
Emily's voice broke.
“Did you use my signature to steal money?””
Mom slapped the desk.
“Enough!””
The sound made everyone jump.
For a moment, the old version of my mother appeared.
The woman who could silence an entire room with one look.
But this time, nobody backed down.
Richard took out his phone.
“I'm contacting our investigators. We need to establish where Michael is and who authorized these transfers.””
Mom stepped toward him.
“You can't do that.””
“Watch me.””
“Michael will never cooperate.””
Richard stopped.
“Why?””
Mom looked at him.
“Because he knows what happened in Chicago.””
Richard's face hardened.
“What happened?””
Mom swallowed.
Then she spoke.
“Twelve years ago, Michael discovered that your company's acquisition division had been using fraudulent invoices to move money into private accounts.””
Richard stared at her.
“My acquisition division?””
“You were running it.””
He shook his head.
“I never authorized anything like that.””
“Your signature was on the approvals.””
Richard's expression changed.
I looked at him.
“Did you know?””
He shook his head.
“No.””
Mom laughed bitterly.
“That's what your father said when he found out.””
Richard slowly sat down.
“My father?””
Mom nodded.
“Your father knew. He ordered Michael to take responsibility for the missing money. Michael refused. He said the transfers were being approved by someone above him.””
Richard stared at the floor.
“Who?””
Mom didn't answer.
I turned another page in the ledger.
There were several initials beside the suspicious payments.
R.B.
I looked at Richard.
“Is that your signature?””
He examined the entry.
His face drained of color.
“Yes.””
Mom immediately pointed at him.
“Exactly.””
Richard shook his head.
“Those initials don't prove anything.””
“They prove you were involved.””
“No,” he said firmly.
“They prove someone used my authorization.””
I remembered the email.
The old company.
The fake accounts.
The transfer that had been made using my name.
Someone had been forging signatures for years.
And now I wondered whether my father had died trying to expose the same person.
A knock sounded at the front door.
Everyone froze.
A man's voice called from outside.
“Mrs. Mitchell? This is David Cole. I'm here regarding the estate records.””
Mom looked terrified.
Richard glanced at me.
“Were you expecting anyone?””
I shook my head.
Emily moved toward the hallway.
“I'll check.””
Mom suddenly grabbed her arm.
“Don't open that door.””
Emily pulled away.
“Why?””
“Because I said so.””
The knocking came again.
“Mrs. Mitchell, we know you're inside.””
Richard moved toward the entrance.
I followed him.
He opened the door.
A tall man in a gray coat stood on the porch, holding a leather briefcase.
“Mr. Bennett,” he said.
“I'm David Cole. I'm a private investigator working for the estate's legal representatives.””
Richard nodded.
“What have you found?””
David glanced toward the study.
“There's been a development.””
He opened his briefcase and removed a printed photograph.
“Earlier today, we located the individual connected to the Nashville account.””
He placed the photograph on the hallway table.
I looked down.
A man stood outside a small restaurant, wearing a baseball cap and a dark jacket.
He was older, heavier, and had a beard.
But I recognized him from the photograph in Dad's study.
Michael Bennett.
Richard stared at the image.
“Where is he?””
David answered carefully.
“About twenty minutes from here.””
Mom made a small choking sound.
David continued.
“There's one complication. He asked us to deliver a message before agreeing to meet.””
Richard's voice tightened.
“What message?””
David turned toward me.
“He said he would only speak to Sarah Mitchell.””
I frowned.
“Why me?””
David reached into his briefcase again.
He removed a sealed envelope.
“Because he claims your father left him something that belongs to you.””
I took the envelope.
My name was written across the front.
But the handwriting wasn't my father's.
It was Michael's.
I opened it.
Inside was a single photograph of my father standing beside a hospital bed.
A young boy sat in the bed.
On the back, someone had written:
*Sarah, your father didn't die because he was sick. He died because he discovered who was stealing from his daughters.*
I felt the room spin.
Richard took the photograph from me.
“Who is that boy?””
I looked at the hospital bed.
The boy had dark hair, pale skin, and a small scar above his left eyebrow.
Then I noticed the date.
It was taken three weeks before my father's death.
I looked at Mom.
She was crying now.
Not quietly.
Not gracefully.
She was trembling.
“Who is the boy?”” I demanded.
Mom shook her head.
“Sarah, please.””
I stepped closer.
“Who is he?””
She looked at the photograph.
Then she whispered:
“Your father had another son.””
Nobody moved.
Emily covered her mouth.
Richard stared at her.
And I realized that the biggest secret in my family wasn't the stolen money, the forged will, or the engagement.
It was the fact that my mother had hidden an entire person from us.
Then David's phone rang.
He answered, listened for a few seconds, and looked directly at me.
“Sarah, Michael Bennett has just left his location.””
“Where is he going?””
David hesitated.
May you like
Then he said:
“He's on his way to the hospital where your father died.””
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