Chapter 7: The Secret Hidden In The Envelope
The room felt smaller after I opened the envelope.
Everyone was staring at me.
My mother looked nervous.
My father looked guilty.
Vanessa looked angry.
And Clara, sitting beside me, looked confused.
I pulled out the document slowly.
The paper was thick.
Official.
The kind of document that didn’t appear by accident.
At the top was a legal heading.
*Power of Attorney Authorization Request.*
My stomach tightened.
I read the name beneath it.
Vanessa Carter.
But the person she wanted authorization from was not my father.
Not my mother.
It was me.
She had been preparing paperwork that would allow her to make financial decisions on my behalf.
Without my knowledge.
I looked up.
“What is this?””
Nobody answered.
“Vanessa.””
She crossed her arms.
“I told you, it wasn’t what you think.””
“Then tell me what it is.””
She looked frustrated.
“It was a backup plan.””
“A backup plan for what?””
She didn’t answer.
My father sighed.
“Daniel…”
I turned toward him.
“No. I want her to say it.””
Vanessa rolled her eyes.
“You’ve changed.””
I stared at her.
“No. I stopped ignoring what was happening.””
She stood up.
“You think because you’re successful, everyone around you is trying to take from you.””
I pointed at the document.
“This isn’t imagination.””
Her face hardened.
“You don’t understand.””
“Then explain.””
For a moment, she said nothing.
Then she finally spoke.
“You’ve always been the favorite.””
The words surprised me.
“What?””
She laughed bitterly.
“Everyone saw it.””
My mother looked down.
“You got the opportunities.””
“That’s not true.””
“You got the education. The business. The money.””
“I worked for those things.””
“And I was left behind.””
I stared at her.
All these years.
This was what she believed?
That my success was something stolen from her?
“Vanessa, I offered to help you start your own business.””
“You offered me a job.””
“Yes.””
“I didn’t want a job from my little brother.””
I shook my head.
“You wanted what I built.””
Her silence answered me.
Clara gently touched my arm.
“Daniel.””
I looked at her.
She didn’t look angry.
She looked sad.
Because she was realizing what I had finally accepted.
This wasn’t one bad decision.
This was years of resentment.
My father picked up the document again.
“I found this because I was looking through Vanessa’s room.””
Vanessa looked at him.
“You went through my things?””
“You were trying to take your brother’s company.””
“You knew what I was doing?””
His face tightened.
“I knew you were angry.””
“Because he abandoned us.””
I looked at her.
“Abandoned you?””
“Yes.””
Her voice rose.
“You got rich and forgot where you came from.””
I almost couldn’t believe it.
“I paid for Mom and Dad’s house repairs.””
“You had money.””
“I helped when Dad got sick.””
“You had money.””
“I paid your wedding expenses.””
She went quiet.
“You did those things because you wanted to feel important.””
That hurt.
Not because it was true.
Because it showed me how she saw everything.
My kindness wasn’t kindness to her.
It was proof that I owed her.
I stood.
“I think this conversation is over.””
My father looked up.
“Daniel.””
I stopped.
He looked older suddenly.
Tired.
“I should have stopped this earlier.””
That was the first honest thing he had said.
I turned back.
“What do you mean?””
He looked at Vanessa.
Then at me.
“Your sister has been asking questions about your finances for months.””
My chest tightened.
“Months?””
“Yes.””
“Why didn’t you tell me?””
He looked ashamed.
“Because I thought it was jealousy.””
“And now?””
He looked at the documents.
“Now I think it was something else.””
I gathered the papers.
Before they left, Vanessa stopped at the door.
“You’re really choosing her over us?””
I looked at Clara.
The woman who had been humiliated in my parents’ home.
The woman who still tried to protect them.
The woman carrying our child.
Then I looked back at Vanessa.
“I’m choosing the people who choose me.””
Her expression changed.
For the first time, she looked afraid.
After they left, I sat at the kitchen table with Clara.
Neither of us spoke for a while.
Then she asked:
“Do you think this is over?””
I looked at the documents.
“No.””
Because one question remained.
Why had Vanessa started this now?
And who had helped her prepare those papers?
That night, I received a message from an unknown number.
One sentence.
*You’re looking in the wrong direction.*
Then another message appeared.
A photo.
My blood ran cold.
May you like
It was a picture of my office.
Taken from inside.
