Chapter 4: The Letter My Mother Left Behind
For several seconds, I couldn't open the envelope.
My mother's handwriting was unmistakable. The slightly crooked capital letters. The way she crossed her T's too far to the right. Even the tiny heart she sometimes drew above the letter I.
I had not seen her handwriting in sixteen years.
And now, twelve days after giving birth to my daughter, I was holding a letter she had written four days before she died.
"Dad," I whispered, "why didn't you show me this before?""
My father pulled the chair closer to my hospital bed.
"Because I didn't understand what it meant when I found it. And because I wasn't certain the people mentioned in it were still a threat.""
"What people?""
He looked at the envelope.
"Martin Cole. The Bennett family. And someone your mother believed was helping them.""
I carefully opened the envelope.
Inside was a single folded sheet of paper and a small photograph.
The photograph showed my mother standing outside a brick building with another woman. The woman was younger, perhaps in her thirties, and holding a little boy's hand.
I turned it over.
Three names were written on the back.
*Evelyn Bennett. Martin Cole. Charles.*
My father went pale.
"Where did you get this photograph?"" I asked.
"Your mother gave it to me.""
"Why?""
"She said it was important. I didn't understand why until much later.""
I unfolded the letter.
My darling girl,
If you're reading this, something happened before I had the chance to explain the truth. I need you to understand that I never wanted you to grow up afraid of the world. But there are people who mistake kindness for weakness, and they have spent years taking advantage of people who trusted them.
I swallowed.
The next paragraph made my fingers tighten around the paper.
Martin Cole is not simply a business associate of the Bennett family. He has been involved in their financial arrangements for years. If anything happens to me, please make sure Charles knows that the documents are not where they think they are.
I looked up.
"Dad, what documents?""
He shook his head.
"I don't know.""
I continued reading.
Evelyn knows what happened. She knows why I refused to sign. She also knows what they planned to do with the money that belonged to our family.
My stomach twisted.
The Bennett family.
Derek's family.
The people I had spent three years trying to impress.
The letter continued.
I am sorry I cannot explain everything now. I wanted to wait until you were old enough to understand. But if someone from that family ever tells you that I was careless, unstable, or responsible for my own death, don't believe them.
The last sentence was written in darker ink.
Your mother loved you. More than anything.
I stopped reading.
My eyes blurred.
Dad reached for my hand.
"She loved you very much.""
"Why did she think someone would blame her for her death?""
He stared at the floor.
"Because she'd been investigating financial misconduct connected to a company owned by the Bennett family. She worked as an accountant for them before you were born.""
I looked at the photograph again.
"Was Evelyn Derek's grandmother?""
"Yes.""
I felt a chill.
"Did she know my mother?""
"Very well.""
"Then why would she let Derek marry me?""
Dad's jaw tightened.
"That's a question I've been asking myself.""
Renee, who had remained silent, leaned forward.
"Charles, did your wife ever file a formal complaint?""
"She tried.""
"With whom?""
"The police. But the complaint disappeared.""
Renee's expression changed.
"Disappeared?""
"An officer told her there wasn't enough evidence. Two weeks later, she withdrew from the investigation.""
"Why?""
Dad looked at me.
"Because somebody threatened to take you away.""
I covered my mouth.
I remembered almost nothing about those final weeks of my mother's life. Just fragments. Her sleeping with the bedroom light on.
Her checking the locks twice. Her telling me never to open the door for strangers.
And one memory that suddenly returned with terrible clarity.
A man standing in our kitchen.
My mother crying.
My father telling me to go upstairs.
I had been eight years old.
"Dad," I whispered, "was Martin in our house?""
My father closed his eyes.
"Yes.""
"Was Derek's family responsible for Mom's accident?""
"I don't know. I never had proof.""
"Did you suspect them?""
"Every day.""
Silence filled the room.
Then my phone vibrated.
A message from Derek.
*I know you're talking to my grandmother. You need to stop before you destroy something you can't fix.*
I stared at the screen.
I hadn't spoken to Evelyn in months.
How did he know about the letter?
I showed Dad.
He immediately stood.
"Renee, I want to know whether anyone has accessed the hospital's visitor records.""
Renee picked up her phone.
"I'll handle it.""
Another message arrived.
This time, it was from an unknown number.
A photograph appeared.
It showed the front of my father's house.
Someone had photographed it that morning.
Beneath the image were six words.
*Your daughter isn't the only target.*
I looked at Dad.
He took the phone from my hand.
His expression became frighteningly calm.
"Then we stop treating this as a family dispute.""
He called the security officer stationed outside my room.
"Nobody enters without clearance. And I want two officers at my house immediately.""
Then he turned back to me.
"There's something else you need to know about Evelyn Bennett.""
"What?""
"She called me last night.""
I blinked.
"Before the SUVs arrived?""
"Yes.""
"What did she say?""
Dad hesitated.
May you like
Then he gave me the answer that changed everything.
"She said Derek had been looking for your mother's missing documents for three years.""
