Chapter 6: What Was Hidden In My Mother’s Room
The drive home felt endless.
My father didn’t speak.
Neither did I.
The only sound was the engine and the rain tapping against the windshield.
I kept thinking about my mother’s room.
The room Vanessa had always told me was “too painful” to open.
The room that somehow had become a storage space after my father remarried.
When we arrived, the front door was unlocked.
That immediately bothered my father.
“Stay behind me.””
I nodded.
We walked inside.
The house was silent.
Too silent.
“Vanessa?””
No answer.
My father moved toward the hallway.
Then he stopped.
The door to my mother’s old room was open.
I had never seen it open since I was a child.
Inside, boxes were scattered across the floor.
Someone had been searching.
My father walked in slowly.
“What happened here?””
I looked around.
Old photographs.
My mother’s books.
Her jewelry box.
Everything was disturbed.
Then I saw it.
A small wooden box underneath the bed.
My father picked it up.
“There wasn’t supposed to be anything here.””
He opened it.
Inside were documents.
Bank papers.
Letters.
And a small envelope with my name written on it.
My hands covered my mouth.
“Dad…”
He handed it to me.
I opened it carefully.
Inside was a letter from my mother.
My eyes filled instantly.
My dear Emily,
If you are reading this, something happened that made you search for answers.
I couldn’t finish.
I had to stop.
My father gently placed a hand on my shoulder.
“What does it say?””
I looked at the next line.
I wrote this because I was afraid someone would try to take what belongs to you.
My breathing changed.
My mother knew.
She knew someone might try this.
I kept reading.
The money I left for you is protected, but there is one thing I never told Daniel.
I looked up.
“What?””
My father looked worried.
“What is it?””
I turned the page.
Before I passed away, I discovered someone had accessed my accounts without permission.
The room went silent.
Someone had done this before.
Someone had been taking from my mother.
My father took the letter from me.
His eyes moved quickly.
Then he stopped.
“What?””
I looked at him.
“What did you find?””
He pointed at the bottom of the page.
There was a name.
A name written by my mother.
A warning.
Someone who had been close to our family.
Someone my father trusted.
I looked down.
And my heart dropped.
May you like
Because the name on the paper was:
Vanessa.
