Chapter 8: My Mother's Voice
I opened the door.
Vanessa stood in the hallway wearing a silk robe, her hair pulled back into a loose knot. Without her makeup and carefully arranged smile, she looked tired.
For once, she wasn't carrying a clipboard, issuing instructions, or telling me what I was allowed to do.
She looked afraid.
“You took the money,” I said.
She glanced toward the staircase.
“Keep your voice down.””
“Why? Are you worried Dad will hear?””
“Emily, please.””
“You tried to take my bedroom. You threw my things away. You tried to destroy Mom's letter. And now you're telling me you stole from her?””
Vanessa flinched.
“I didn't steal all of it.””
The distinction made my stomach turn.
“How much?””
“I don't remember the exact amount.””
“Nearly half a million dollars?””
Her eyes widened.
“So you've seen the ledger.””
“Answer me!””
She pressed her fingers against her temples.
“I was in financial trouble. Before I married your father, I invested in a business with someone I trusted. The business failed, and I lost almost everything.””
“So you took Mom's money?””
“I borrowed it.””
“Without asking?””
“I intended to replace it.””
“When?””
She didn't answer.
I stared at her.
“You were going to let Mom die without her money?””
“She didn't need all of it for her medical care. Richard was paying the bills.””
I couldn't believe what I was hearing.
“She was my mother!””
“And I was trying to save my own future!””
The words came out louder than she intended.
Vanessa looked down the hall, then lowered her voice again.
“I thought I could repay it before anyone noticed. Your mother found out before I had the chance.””
“What did she do?””
“She confronted me.””
“And?””
Vanessa swallowed.
“She told me she was going to Richard. She said she would have the transactions investigated and remove me from every document connected to the trust.””
I remembered the receipt in the ledger.
The meeting between my mother and Vanessa had taken place six months before she died.
“What happened that night?””
Vanessa shook her head.
“I didn't hurt your mother, Emily.””
“I didn't ask if you hurt her.””
“But that's what you're thinking.””
I said nothing.
She gripped the doorframe.
“Your mother was already very ill. She was angry, frightened, and convinced everyone was lying to her. We argued. I told her I would repay the money, but she wouldn't listen.””
“Then what?””
“I left.””
“And the money?””
“Some was returned. Some wasn't.””
“Where did the rest go?””
Vanessa's eyes filled with tears.
“I used it to pay debts. By the time your mother died, I couldn't replace it.””
I stepped backward.
“You married Dad knowing what you'd done.””
“Yes.””
“You moved into Mom's house.””
“Yes.””
“And you spent eleven years pretending you belonged here more than I did.””
Vanessa shook her head.
“I loved your father.””
“That doesn't make what you did right.””
“No. It doesn't.””
Her admission caught me off guard.
For the first time, she wasn't trying to justify every cruel thing she had done.
But I wasn't ready to forgive her simply because she'd finally stopped lying.
“Why did you try to take the house?”” I asked.
Vanessa wiped her eyes.
“Because I was afraid.””
“Of what?””
“Of losing everything.””
I stared at her.
“You mean losing the house you tried to steal?””
She closed her eyes.
“I thought if I could transfer the property, Madison would have security. I thought Richard would eventually agree that the house should belong to our family.””
“I am your family, too.””
Vanessa opened her eyes.
Neither of us spoke for several seconds.
Then she looked at the photograph I had placed on my nightstand.
My mother was smiling through the glass.
“I hated that picture,” Vanessa admitted.
“Why?””
“Because every time I saw it, I remembered what I'd done.””
I felt no satisfaction in hearing it.
Only anger.
“You didn't throw it away because it was creepy. You threw it away because you couldn't stand looking at her.””
Vanessa didn't deny it.
I stepped aside and pointed toward the stairs.
“Go downstairs.””
“Emily—”
“I'm not your judge. I'm not your lawyer. And I'm not the person you need to convince.””
She looked at me for a long moment before turning away.
As she walked down the hallway, she stopped.
“Your mother was going to tell Richard everything the morning after our argument,” she whispered.
“But she was admitted to the hospital that night.””
I stared at her.
“Are you saying you had something to do with that?””
“No!””
Her answer was immediate.
“I had nothing to do with her illness. Nothing.””
“Then why bring it up?””
“Because you need to understand that the recording may not make things clearer. Your mother was upset when she made it. She was afraid, and she said things that—”
“Enough.””
I shut the door.
This time, I locked it.
The following morning, Daniel arrived at eight with a message from Claire.
She was willing to meet us at her office at ten.
My father drove me downtown while Daniel followed in his own car. Neither of us spoke much during the journey.
At a red light, Dad glanced at me.
“Did Vanessa come to your room last night?””
I turned toward him.
“How did you know?””
“I heard you talking in the hallway. I was coming upstairs when she went back down.””
“Did you hear what she said?””
“Enough.””
He tightened his grip on the steering wheel.
“I'm sorry I didn't protect you from this.””
I watched the traffic move through the intersection.
“I need you to understand something, Dad.””
“Anything.””
“I'm not going to pretend everything is fine just because you finally believe me.””
He nodded slowly.
“You shouldn't.””
“And I'm not giving up my room.””
“You won't have to.””
I looked at him.
“That's not enough.””
“I know.””
For the first time, he didn't ask me to forgive anyone.
At ten minutes past ten, we entered Claire's office.
She was a woman in her late fifties with short silver hair and kind eyes. When she saw me, she stood so quickly that her chair rolled backward.
“Emily?””
I nodded.
She approached slowly, as if she were afraid I might disappear.
“You look so much like your mother.””
My eyes stung.
“Did you really work with her?””
“For nearly seven years.””
Claire led us into a small conference room. On the table sat an old digital recorder, a laptop, and a sealed envelope bearing my mother's handwriting.
“I've kept these in a secure place since your mother asked me to,” Claire explained.
“I wasn't authorized to release them unless the trust was threatened or you reached the age specified in her instructions.””
Daniel examined the envelope.
“The trust has clearly been threatened.””
Claire nodded.
Then she looked at me.
“Before we listen, I need you to know that your mother wanted you to hear her voice when you were old enough to understand what she was trying to protect.””
I sat down.
Claire pressed a button on the recorder.
There was a faint crackle.
Then a woman's voice filled the room.
“Emily, my darling girl.””
I stopped breathing.
It was my mother.
Her voice was softer than I remembered, slightly tired, but unmistakable.
“If you're listening to this, something has happened that I hoped you would never have to face.””
Tears slid down my cheeks.
My father covered his mouth with one hand.
My mother's voice continued.
“I want you to know that you were never the reason for any of the problems in this family. You were never a burden. And no matter what anyone tells you, you deserve to feel safe in the home where you grew up.””
I squeezed my hands together.
“There's something I discovered about the money I set aside for you,” she continued.
“Someone I trusted has been taking it. I have records, and I have proof. But there is one detail I haven't yet been able to confirm.””
Claire looked at Daniel.
He leaned closer to the recorder.
My mother took a shaky breath.
“The missing money is only part of the problem. Someone has been trying to change the ownership records for our house. If those documents are filed, Emily could lose the protection I established for her.””
My father whispered, “Oh, God.””
The recording continued.
“I don't know whether this person is acting alone. I don't know who else has been involved. But I have reason to believe the person taking the money is not the only person who knows about the plan.””
I felt cold.
My mother paused.
Then she spoke again.
“Richard, if you're listening to this, please don't assume that the person you married is the person you think she is. I know you want to believe the best in people. I know you want our daughter to have a happy home.””
My father began to cry silently.
“But love does not excuse dishonesty. And protecting Emily sometimes means accepting a truth that will hurt.””
The recording ended with a faint click.
Nobody spoke.
I stared at the recorder, wishing my mother could somehow continue talking.
Then Claire opened the sealed envelope.
Inside was a handwritten note and a copy of an old bank transfer.
Daniel examined the transfer.
“This is different from the transactions in the ledger.””
Claire nodded.
“Your mother discovered it two days before she was hospitalized.””
My father leaned forward.
“What does it show?””
Claire placed the document in front of us.
The transfer had been made from the trust's investment account to a private company.
The recipient's name was printed clearly.
It wasn't Vanessa.
It wasn't my father.
It was a company called Bennett Property Holdings.
My eyes moved to Claire.
“Your company?””
She shook her head, horrified.
“No. I have never owned that company.””
Daniel studied the registration number.
Then he looked up.
“Who does?””
Claire swallowed.
“I don't know. But your mother asked me to investigate it before she died.””
She unfolded the handwritten note.
The first line was in my mother's familiar handwriting.
If the company receiving the money belongs to the person I suspect, then Vanessa may not be acting alone.
Claire turned the page over.
On the back, my mother had written one final sentence.
Find out who introduced Vanessa to Richard.
My father went completely still.
May you like
Because suddenly, he remembered the name of the man who had introduced them.
And it was the same name printed on the company registration.
