Chapter 4: The Will My Father Buried
I didn't sleep that night.
At 2:13 a.m., I sat cross-legged on my bedroom floor, staring at the photograph on my phone. The words seemed to shift every time I read them.
Ask your father what happened to your mother's original will.
I had never seen my mother's will. I hadn't even known she had one.
Downstairs, the house was silent except for the refrigerator humming in the kitchen. Every so often, a car passed outside, its headlights sliding across my bedroom wall like a searchlight.
I opened the message again and studied the number.
Unknown.
No name. No explanation.
Just a warning that my mother had left something behind, and someone had made sure I never found it.
At 6:30 a.m., I went downstairs.
Dad was already in the kitchen, sitting at the island with his reading glasses on and a cup of untouched coffee beside him. He looked as though he'd aged ten years overnight.
When he saw me, he closed his laptop.
“Maya, I was going to wake you after I spoke to Daniel.””
“Who sent me this?””
I placed my phone on the counter.
Dad read the message once.
Then he read it again.
The color drained from his face.
“Where did you get this?””
“Someone texted it to me last night. Dad, what happened to Mom's will?””
He took off his glasses.
For several seconds, he rubbed the bridge of his nose without answering.
“Your mother made a will when you were little,” he finally said.
“It was mostly about your future. Your education, your inheritance, and who would manage certain things if something happened to me.””
“What happened to it?””
“After she died, her attorney handled the estate.””
“Which attorney?””
“Martin Cole.””
“Then why have I never heard his name?””
Dad looked toward the window.
“Because I made a mistake.””
The words frightened me more than any excuse could have.
“What kind of mistake?””
He pulled out the chair beside him.
“Sit down.””
I remained standing.
“Dad, please don't tell me to sit down when you're about to tell me something that could change my entire life.””
He flinched.
Then he nodded.
“Fair enough.””
He opened his laptop and searched through a folder of old emails. After several minutes, he found a message with an attachment dated six years earlier.
He turned the screen toward me.
The email was from Martin Cole's office. The subject line read: *Estate of Eleanor Bennett — Final Documentation.*
My mother's name appeared beneath it.
I stared at the screen.
“What does this mean?””
“It means I believed everything had been handled correctly. I was grieving, Maya. You were eleven. I was trying to keep the business running while making sure you had a stable home.””
“And Vanessa?””
“She wasn't in our lives yet.””
He clicked the attachment.
It was a scanned letter confirming that my mother's estate had been settled. A paragraph near the bottom mentioned a separate trust established for my benefit.
My fingers tightened around the edge of the counter.
“What trust?””
Dad swallowed.
“Your mother owned shares in a small commercial property her parents left her. The income was supposed to help pay for your education and give you financial security when you turned eighteen.””
“Was?””
“I thought it had been transferred into a managed account.””
“Did you ever see the account?””
He didn't answer immediately.
That was answer enough.
“You never checked,” I whispered.
“I trusted the attorney.””
“And then you married Vanessa.””
Dad closed his eyes.
“Yes.””
I stepped away from the counter.
For years, I'd assumed Vanessa's treatment of me came from jealousy or simple cruelty. Now I wondered whether she had been looking at me and seeing a bank account she couldn't reach.
“Dad, did Vanessa know about the trust?””
“I don't know.””
“Did you tell her?””
“I may have mentioned it during estate planning. I don't remember the exact conversation.””
I laughed once, bitterly.
“You don't remember telling your wife that your daughter might inherit something valuable?””
“Maya, I understand how this sounds.””
“No. You understand how it sounds now. That's different.””
He stood.
“I'll find out what happened.””
“How?””
“Daniel will contact Martin Cole's office. We'll request the original documents, the trust records, and every transaction connected to your mother's estate.””
I watched him pick up his phone.
For the first time, he looked less like my father and more like a man realizing that his own trust had made him vulnerable.
Then I remembered the message.
If Richard refuses to cooperate, use the other plan.
I showed it to him.
His jaw tightened.
“Someone knows more than we do.””
“Someone knows enough to threaten me.””
He took a screenshot and forwarded it to Daniel.
“Until we know who sent this, don't respond to the number. And don't confront Vanessa alone.””
“Do you think she sent it?””
“I don't know.””
“But you suspect her.””
He looked at me.
“I suspect everyone who has something to lose.””
At that moment, footsteps sounded on the staircase.
Vanessa appeared in the doorway wearing a cream-colored robe, her hair perfectly arranged despite the early hour. She carried a white mug and looked between us.
“Why are you both up so early?””
Dad closed his laptop.
“We're discussing Maya's inheritance.””
The mug stopped halfway to Vanessa's mouth.
Only for a second.
Then she smiled.
“What inheritance?””
Dad watched her carefully.
“Eleanor left a trust for Maya.””
Vanessa set the mug down.
“Oh, that old thing? I thought it had already been settled.””
I felt the room change.
Dad's expression became very still.
“What do you mean, you thought it had been settled?””
Vanessa glanced at me.
Then she looked back at him.
“I mean, Richard, it's been six years. Surely you aren't going to reopen every painful chapter of your first marriage because of an anonymous text.””
I stepped forward.
“How did you know about the trust?””
She smiled at me without warmth.
“Because I live in this house, Maya. Your father tells me things.””
“Then you know where the original will is?””
Her smile disappeared.
“No.””
The answer came too quickly.
Dad picked up his phone.
“Daniel is coming over this morning. We'll discuss everything together.””
Vanessa's face hardened.
“Fine. But before you drag lawyers into our family, you should know something.””
She turned toward the staircase.
Then she looked over her shoulder at me.
“Your mother wasn't nearly as innocent as you think she was.””
My breath caught.
Dad took a step toward her.
“Vanessa, what did you just say?””
She walked upstairs without answering.
I stared after her, my heart hammering.
For six years, I had believed my mother had left me with nothing but memories and a sewing machine.
May you like
Now I knew she had left something else.
And Vanessa had just made it clear she was terrified I might find it.
