Chapter 4: The Secret Behind My Mother's Death
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
The backyard seemed to shrink around us. Somewhere beyond the fence, a dog barked, and a car passed on the street as if the world hadn't just split open beneath my feet.
My father gripped the edge of the patio table.
"What did you just say?"" Michael asked into the phone.
Eleanor Brooks took a shaky breath.
"I said Vanessa wasn't supposed to be anywhere near my sister the night Claire died.""
Vanessa lunged toward the phone.
"She's lying! Michael, hang up!""
My father moved the phone out of her reach.
"Eleanor, I want you to explain exactly what you mean.""
"I'll explain everything," Eleanor replied.
"But I need to speak to Emily first.""
My heart slammed against my ribs.
"Why?"" I whispered.
Eleanor heard me.
"Emily? Is that you, sweetheart?""
Nobody had called me sweetheart with such tenderness since my mother died.
"Yes.""
"Oh, my God."" Eleanor's voice cracked.
"You sound just like Claire.""
Tears blurred my vision.
"Did you know my mother?""
"I was her older sister. I held her hand when she was frightened. I taught her how to drive. I was there the day she met your father.""
She paused.
"And I've spent seventeen years wondering whether I'd ever get the chance to meet you.""
I stared at the phone.
"Why didn't you come sooner?""
The question came out harsher than I'd intended, but I couldn't take it back.
Eleanor didn't defend herself.
"Because someone told me your mother had asked me to stay away. I believed that for years. When I finally discovered the truth, I began searching for you.""
My father pulled out a chair and sat down heavily.
"Who told you that?""
"Vanessa.""
Every face turned toward my stepmother.
Vanessa laughed, but the sound was thin and desperate.
"This is absurd. Eleanor has hated me for years.""
"Then explain why you sent me a letter claiming Claire wanted no contact with her family," my father said.
Vanessa's mouth tightened.
"I was trying to protect you from her obsession.""
"My obsession?"" Eleanor's voice sharpened through the speaker.
"I sent birthday cards. Christmas presents. Letters. Every single one came back unopened.""
My father looked at Vanessa as though he had never seen her before.
"You told me Claire had no family left.""
"She didn't want them involved in our lives!""
"You told me you helped Claire during her final weeks.""
"I did!""
"Then why does her sister say you weren't supposed to be there?""
Vanessa's eyes filled with tears.
"Because Eleanor blames me for everything that happened that night!""
My fingers went numb.
I stood so abruptly that my chair scraped backward.
"What happened the night Mom died?""
My father looked at me.
"Emily, honey—"
"No."" My voice shook.
"Everyone keeps talking about my mother as if I don't have the right to know what happened to her.""
Eleanor spoke softly.
"You do have that right.""
Then she said something that made the blood drain from my face.
"Claire called me that night, Emily. She was crying. She said she had discovered something about Vanessa, something she was going to tell your father.""
Vanessa shook her head violently.
"That's not true.""
Eleanor continued.
"Claire told me she was afraid. She said she had found documents hidden in a drawer. She was going to bring them to me the next morning.""
"What documents?"" my father demanded.
"I don't know. Claire never told me. She said she wanted to explain everything in person.""
A tear slid down my cheek.
"Why didn't you tell the police?""
"I tried. But when I called back the next morning, Michael told me Claire had died in a car accident. He said she had lost control of the vehicle on a wet road.""
My father looked stunned.
"That's what the police told me.""
"I know. But Claire had promised to meet me that morning. She never arrived. When I called your house, Vanessa answered and told me Claire had been planning to cut me out of her life.""
Vanessa backed away from the table.
"You're twisting everything!""
Eleanor's voice hardened.
"I have the letters, Vanessa. Every returned envelope. Every message you sent me. And I have something else.""
My father leaned toward the phone.
"What?""
"A photograph Claire mailed me two days before she died.""
The patio fell silent.
Eleanor continued.
"In the photograph, Claire was standing beside a filing cabinet. She had circled a document on the desk behind her. On the back, she'd written four words: If anything happens, look."
"Look where?"" I whispered.
"I don't know, sweetheart. The rest of the message was cut off.""
My father rose from his chair.
"I have Claire's old belongings stored in the attic. Her journals, her boxes of photographs, everything I couldn't bear to throw away.""
"Then we need to search them," Eleanor said.
Vanessa suddenly grabbed her handbag.
"I'm leaving.""
My father stepped in front of the back door.
"You're not going anywhere until we finish this conversation.""
"You can't imprison me!""
"I'm not imprisoning you. I'm asking you to explain why my daughter's aunt has seventeen years of unanswered letters.""
Vanessa's eyes flashed.
"You think you're some kind of hero because you came home early and saw a ruined dress?""
"No," he replied.
"I think I've been a fool for seventeen years.""
Madison began crying again.
"Mom, please. Just tell him.""
Vanessa spun toward her daughter.
"Get inside!""
Madison remained where she stood.
For the first time, she didn't obey.
Then Eleanor spoke again.
"Michael, before you search those boxes, there's something else. Claire wasn't just afraid of Vanessa.""
My father went still.
"Who else was she afraid of?""
Eleanor hesitated.
"She told me she had discovered that someone was using your name to move money out of a company account.""
My father stared at the phone.
"What company account?""
"The one Claire managed before she died.""
He shook his head.
"Claire never managed a company account.""
"That's what she wanted you to believe. She had been investigating financial records for months. She thought someone close to you was stealing from your business.""
Vanessa's handbag slipped from her fingers.
I heard it hit the patio floor.
My father slowly turned toward her.
"Vanessa, what did Claire find?""
She said nothing.
But when my father reached for her handbag, she screamed.
May you like
"Don't touch that!""
And the terror in her voice told us that whatever she had hidden inside it was far more dangerous than a secret about my mother's death.
