Chapter 7: The Secret My Mother Kept for Three Years
I recognized my mother's handwriting immediately.
The slanted letters. The long tail on the capital R. The way she always pressed too hard when writing something important.
I had seen that handwriting on birthday cards, grocery lists, and the notes she left beside my bed when I was a child.
But I had never seen it beside the name Richard Whitmore.
I stared at the photograph until the edges blurred.
"Where did you get this?"" I asked Lauren.
She sat with her hands clasped between her knees.
"Isabella gave it to me six months ago.""
"Why?""
"She said it was proof that your mother had lied about something. She told me to keep it hidden unless you started asking questions about the family business.""
Nathan stepped forward.
"My father and Margaret knew each other?""
"Apparently," Michael said quietly.
"We need to establish when this photograph was taken.""
I turned it over again.
There was no date, only the six words that had just shattered everything I thought I knew.
"If anything happens to Richard, find Daniel.""
"Why didn't you tell me?"" I whispered.
Lauren began to cry.
"Because Isabella told me your mother had helped Richard steal money from the company. She said if I exposed the photograph, she'd make sure everyone knew.""
I felt sick.
"My mother can barely afford her medication. She has spent the last year fighting to stay alive. Why would she steal money from a hotel company?""
"That's what I asked," Lauren replied.
"Isabella said your mother had been involved with Richard before he married Nathan's father—"
She stopped abruptly.
Nathan's expression changed.
"Before he married my father?""
Lauren looked at him in confusion.
Then Michael spoke.
"Richard Whitmore was Nathan's father. His wife was Isabella.""
For the first time, Lauren seemed to realize what she had said.
"Sorry. I meant before he married Isabella.""
I shook my head.
"That doesn't make sense. Mom was already married to Dad by the time I was born.""
Michael examined the photograph.
"How old were you when your father died, Emily?""
"Fourteen.""
"And your mother never mentioned knowing Richard?""
"Never.""
I turned toward Nathan.
"Your father died three years ago. Mine died when I was fourteen. They couldn't have known each other through my father.""
Nathan frowned.
"Unless they knew each other independently.""
The room fell silent.
I looked at the photograph again.
My mother appeared younger, perhaps in her early forties. Richard stood beside her with one hand resting on the wooden railing. Neither was smiling.
They looked serious.
Almost frightened.
I suddenly remembered something from my childhood.
A night when I was about eleven, I had woken to find my mother sitting at the kitchen table with a shoebox of old photographs. She had been crying silently.
When I asked what was wrong, she told me she was remembering an old friend.
I had assumed she meant my father.
Now I wasn't sure.
"I need to speak to my mother," I said.
Nathan immediately reached for his jacket.
"I'll take you.""
"No."" I swallowed.
"I need to ask her myself.""
He nodded, understanding.
Michael warned us not to confront Isabella before the evidence could be reviewed. He also arranged for the mysterious phone and the photographs to be documented for a formal investigation.
Lauren remained behind with him.
Before I left, she caught my wrist.
"Emily, there's one more thing.""
I turned.
"When Isabella gave me the photograph, she said your mother wasn't supposed to survive long enough to tell you the truth.""
My blood ran cold.
"What did she mean?""
Lauren's lips trembled.
"She said the cancer was a blessing for everyone involved.""
Nathan took a sharp step toward her.
"She said that about Margaret?""
Lauren nodded.
I couldn't breathe.
For a moment, I wanted to scream. Instead, I walked out of the room.
Nathan followed me into the hallway.
He didn't try to comfort me with empty promises. He simply took my hand as we crossed the hotel lobby.
Outside, Nashville's evening traffic glowed beneath the streetlights. The city continued as if nothing had happened.
My wedding dress dragged against the pavement.
I barely noticed.
At the hospital, my mother was awake in her room, watching an old movie on television. Her blue cardigan lay folded across her lap.
When she saw us, she smiled.
"There's my beautiful bride. Why are you back so early?""
I tried to smile.
"Mom, I need to ask you something.""
She looked at my torn gown.
Her smile disappeared.
"Oh, sweetheart. What happened?""
I sat beside her and placed the photograph on the blanket.
"Who is Richard Whitmore?""
The color drained from her face.
For several seconds, she didn't move.
Then she reached for the photograph with trembling fingers.
"Where did you get this?""
"Lauren had it. Mom, what were you doing with Nathan's father?""
She closed her eyes.
Nathan pulled a chair beside the bed.
"Margaret, we aren't here to accuse you of anything. But we found evidence suggesting someone may have lied about my father's death.""
My mother looked at him.
Then she looked at me.
"I hoped you would never have to know.""
My heart sank.
"Know what?""
She pressed the photograph against her chest.
"Richard wasn't just an old friend.""
I waited.
My mother took a shallow breath.
"Three years ago, he came to me because he believed Isabella was stealing from the company. He had discovered financial records that connected her to a series of fraudulent transfers.""
Nathan leaned forward.
"Did you help him investigate?""
"Yes. I used to work as a bookkeeper before you were born, Emily. Richard trusted me to examine some of the records privately.""
"Why didn't you tell me?"" I asked.
"Because he begged me not to. He believed Isabella was watching everyone close to him.""
Her eyes filled with tears.
"The night before he died, Richard called me. He said he had evidence that would expose everything. He asked me to meet him at the lake the following afternoon.""
Nathan went completely still.
"Did you go?""
My mother nodded.
"I arrived just after four. Richard was waiting near the dock.""
"Was Daniel there?"" Nathan asked.
She shook her head.
"Not when I arrived. Richard told me he was supposed to meet him later.""
I gripped the bedrail.
"What happened?""
My mother stared toward the window.
"Richard gave me an envelope. He told me that if anything happened to him, I had to find Daniel and make sure the evidence reached someone he could trust.""
Her voice broke.
"Then a car pulled into the parking area.""
"Whose car?"" Nathan asked.
My mother looked directly at him.
"Isabella's.""
Before she could continue, a nurse entered to check her medication. My mother fell silent until the nurse left.
Then she caught my hand.
"Emily, there's something else you need to understand.""
She looked at Nathan with an expression I couldn't interpret.
"Richard didn't just suspect Isabella was stealing money.""
May you like
She swallowed hard.
"He believed she was planning to kill him.""
