Chapter 7: The Woman Who Profited From My Mother's Death
For several seconds, Dad looked as though he had forgotten how to breathe.
Rebecca stood beside the storage room door, clutching her handbag with both hands. The woman who had spent years telling me that family meant loyalty now looked like someone desperately searching for an exit.
“You were the beneficiary?”” Dad asked.
Rebecca swallowed.
“Michael, please let me explain.””
“You told me Olivia had no life insurance.””
“I was trying to protect you.””
“Protect me from what? Finding out that my wife had a policy you knew nothing about?””
Eleanor stepped between them, holding the documents from the blue sewing box.
“Mr. Walker, we shouldn't jump to conclusions about the circumstances of Olivia's death. The insurance records establish a financial connection, but they don't establish that Rebecca had anything to do with the accident.””
Rebecca seized on the distinction.
“Exactly! Thank you. Finally, someone is being reasonable.””
Eleanor's expression remained cold.
“I also said we shouldn't jump to conclusions. That applies to you, too.””
Vanessa sat on an overturned storage bin, crying into her hands. I couldn't stop looking at her. Only an hour earlier, she'd been furious that I might win a scholarship. Now she was discovering that the woman she'd spent her life defending might have built their comfortable existence on my mother's stolen work.
I wanted to hate Vanessa.
Part of me did.
But another part remembered the little girl who'd once shared her Halloween candy with me before Rebecca began teaching her that kindness was a weakness.
“Dad,” I whispered, “what happens now?””
He looked at me, and his expression softened.
“Now, we find out the truth.””
Rebecca shook her head.
“You can't seriously believe Olivia's old paperwork is more reliable than your own wife.””
Dad looked at the insurance policy again.
“I believed you when you told me you helped Olivia organize her business records. I believed you when you said her designs were worthless sketches. I believed you when you told me she never wanted to pursue fashion.””
He paused.
“And I believed you when you said you had nothing to do with the collection that made you wealthy.””
Rebecca's eyes filled with tears.
“You have no idea what I sacrificed for this family.””
“What did you sacrifice for Emily?””
The question stopped her.
Dad continued, his voice trembling.
“She lost her mother. She came home to find you had allowed Vanessa to destroy her prom dress. You watched her cry and told her it was just a dress.””
“I didn't pour the paint!””
“You stood there while it happened.””
Rebecca opened her mouth, but no words came.
For the first time, I saw Dad understand that cruelty wasn't always loud. Sometimes it wore a calm expression and called itself discipline.
Eleanor carefully placed the documents inside her folder.
“We need to contact the insurer and request the original claim file. We also need to preserve the academy's records and the documents found here. Any suspected forgery should be handled by the appropriate authorities.””
Rebecca immediately straightened.
“You wouldn't dare take private family documents to the police.””
“I would if they contain evidence of possible fraud,” Eleanor replied.
“You're destroying my life over something that happened nineteen years ago!””
“No,” Dad said quietly.
“We're finally examining what happened nineteen years ago.””
He took out his phone and called his attorney.
I moved away from the others and sat on the bottom step, holding Mom's letter against my chest.
There was something I couldn't understand.
Why had Mom written that Dad didn't know everything?
Had she discovered Rebecca's theft before she died? Had she tried to tell him?
And if she had, why had Dad never mentioned it?
I looked at him as he paced beside the storage shelves, speaking in a low voice to his attorney.
He sounded frightened.
Not guilty, exactly.
Frightened.
When he finished the call, I approached him.
“Dad, can I ask you something?””
He put his phone away.
“Anything.””
“Did Mom ever tell you she was afraid of Rebecca?””
He closed his eyes briefly.
“Not in those words.””
“What did she say?””
He leaned against the wall.
“About six months before she died, your mother started keeping records of every design she created. She asked me to make copies of some financial statements. I thought she was preparing to start her own business.””
“Did she tell you someone was stealing from her?””
“She said she had discovered irregularities in a licensing agreement. She wanted to confront the person responsible, but she was worried that doing so would put you at risk.””
“Why didn't you ask more questions?””
His face crumpled.
“Because I thought I had time.””
He rubbed his eyes.
“I was traveling constantly for work. I told her we'd discuss it when I returned. Then I got a call about the accident.””
I looked down.
“Did you ever investigate?””
“I tried. The police told me she'd lost control of the car on a wet road. There was no evidence of another vehicle.
I was grieving, Emily. I couldn't imagine that anyone would hurt your mother intentionally.””
He took my hands.
“I should have looked harder. I'm sorry.””
For years, I'd wanted Dad to say something like that. I'd wanted him to acknowledge that after Mom died, he'd retreated into work and left me to navigate a house where I always seemed to be the inconvenience.
But hearing him apologize now hurt more than I expected.
“I don't want you to blame yourself,” I whispered.
“I'm not going to let anyone dismiss this again.””
Behind us, Rebecca suddenly spoke.
“The policy was legitimate.””
We turned.
She had stopped crying.
“Olivia took it out herself. She asked me to help with the paperwork because she was overwhelmed. I was listed as the beneficiary because she wanted to ensure Emily would be provided for if something happened to her.””
Dad stared at her.
“Then why did you tell me there was no policy?””
“Because I panicked.””
“Why?””
Rebecca looked at Vanessa, who had lifted her head.
“Because I knew how it would look.””
“How what would look?””
“That I received the money.””
Eleanor folded her arms.
“Did Olivia authorize the payment?””
“Yes.””
“Did she authorize the transfer of her designs to Bellamy House?””
Rebecca hesitated.
“She signed some documents.””
“That isn't what I asked.””
Rebecca's silence was answer enough.
Then Vanessa stood up.
“Mom, you told me Olivia gave you everything.””
Rebecca's face hardened.
“I did what I had to do.””
“No,” Vanessa whispered.
“You told me Emily was stealing from us.””
Rebecca grabbed her daughter's shoulders.
“Everything I did was to give you a better life.””
Vanessa pulled away.
“You told me to ruin her dress because you were afraid she'd win a scholarship using her own mother's designs!””
Rebecca's expression turned vicious.
“Because I knew what would happen if she won!””
Dad stepped between them.
“What would happen?””
Rebecca looked at me.
For a moment, she seemed to be weighing whether the truth would hurt her more than the lie.
Then she spoke.
“Because if Emily wins that scholarship, the academy will reopen Olivia's original case. And if they reopen that case, they won't just investigate me.””
She looked directly at Dad.
“They'll investigate you, too.””
Dad went pale.
“Why would they investigate me?””
Rebecca's lips trembled.
“Because the final document Olivia discovered wasn't about the designs.””
She paused.
“It was about the night she died.””
Before anyone could ask another question, a sharp knock sounded at the front door.
Dad walked toward the hallway.
Two police officers stood outside.
The older officer held up a document.
“Mr. Walker? We've received a request to interview members of your household concerning a historical insurance fraud complaint.””
His gaze moved past Dad and settled on Rebecca.
“Mrs. Reed, we'd like to speak with you about an allegation involving Olivia Walker's death.””
Rebecca's handbag slipped from her fingers.
May you like
And as the officer stepped inside, she whispered something that only I could hear.
“Your mother should have stayed quiet.””
