Chapter 10: The Grandmother Who Was Supposed to Be Dead
"That's impossible.""
The words escaped my mouth before I could stop them.
The officer holding the radio looked toward me.
"Ma'am, the identification hasn't been fully confirmed. But the woman is claiming to be Margaret Peterson.""
I shook my head.
"My grandmother died eight years ago.""
Megan was still standing near the staircase, crying.
Frank looked as though somebody had pulled the floor out from beneath him.
"Where are they?"" I demanded.
The officer checked his radio.
"At a private medical facility in Wisconsin. Your father contacted authorities through an attorney. He says he has information about the original investigation.""
I turned toward Rebecca.
"I need to see him.""
She nodded.
"We'll arrange it through the investigators.""
Frank suddenly stepped forward.
"Chloe, you cannot go.""
I looked at him.
"Why?""
"Because you don't understand what you're getting involved in.""
"Then explain it.""
He looked toward Megan.
She shook her head.
"Don't look at me," she whispered.
"You told me everything was handled.""
Frank's face tightened.
"Shut your mouth.""
An investigator intervened.
"Mr. Peterson, I need you to step away from the witness.""
Frank laughed bitterly.
"Witness? She's my daughter-in-law.""
I looked at him.
"Not anymore.""
His expression changed.
For seven years, he had treated me as an inconvenient addition to his family.
Now he seemed genuinely frightened that I was no longer interested in belonging to it.
Rebecca touched my arm.
"Let's go.""
We left the brownstone with Daniel following us.
As the SUV pulled away, I looked back at the house.
The warm windows.
The beautiful Christmas wreath Carol had already hung on the front door.
The same house where Lily had been slapped.
The same house where I had been told to leave.
And the same house that my grandmother had apparently placed in my name.
I wondered how many secrets were buried beneath its polished floors.
The drive to Wisconsin took almost two hours.
Nobody spoke much.
Zoe sat beside me while Rebecca handled calls with the investigators.
I watched the highway lights blur past the window.
Finally, Zoe spoke.
"Chloe, there's something I need to tell you.""
I turned.
"What?""
"Your grandmother contacted Bennett Global three years ago.""
I frowned.
"Why?""
"She wanted to know whether the company would consider purchasing Peterson Development.""
"Why would she sell a company she gave me?""
"She didn't want to sell it. She wanted to make sure you had the option to take control when the time came.""
I stared at her.
"Did she know about Mark?""
"She suspected him.""
"Then why didn't she warn me?""
Zoe looked down.
"She was afraid that if she contacted you directly, the Petersons would find out.""
I thought about the letters.
The secret accounts.
The fabricated ownership arrangements.
My grandmother had apparently been watching everything from a distance.
And somehow, she had never found a way to reach me.
At 9:40 p.m., we arrived at a private medical facility outside Milwaukee.
An investigator met us at the entrance.
"Mrs. Peterson?""
"Yes.""
"Your father is waiting.""
My heart began racing.
"What about the woman?""
He hesitated.
"She's also here.""
"Is it really my grandmother?""
"We're still confirming her identity. But your father has identified her.""
I followed him down a quiet hallway.
At the end was a small consultation room.
The door was open.
A man stood beside the window.
His hair was white now.
His shoulders were slightly bent.
But when he turned, I saw the same face from the photograph.
"Dad.""
He looked at me.
For a moment, neither of us moved.
Then he whispered:
"Chloe.""
I crossed the room and threw my arms around him.
He held me so tightly that I could barely breathe.
I cried into his shoulder.
Twenty years of grief poured out of me.
"You were alive," I whispered.
"I know, sweetheart.""
"Why didn't you come home?""
His arms tightened.
"I tried.""
I pulled away.
"When?""
"Several times. The first time was when you graduated high school. I watched from the back of the auditorium.""
I stared at him.
"You were there?""
He nodded.
"I wanted to walk up to you. I wanted to tell you everything.""
"Then why didn't you?""
"Because somebody had sent me a photograph of you leaving school with your mother. There was a message underneath it.""
"What message?""
He swallowed.
We know where your daughter lives.
I covered my mouth.
My father continued.
"I thought staying away was the only way to keep you safe.""
I started crying again.
Then I noticed a woman sitting in the corner.
She was wearing a beige cardigan.
Her silver hair was shorter than I remembered.
Her hands trembled slightly.
But her eyes...
I knew those eyes.
"Grandma?""
She stood slowly.
"Hello, my darling.""
I couldn't move.
"You're alive.""
She nodded.
"I am.""
"You let me bury you.""
Her face crumpled.
"I know.""
"You let me stand beside an empty coffin and cry.""
"I know, Chloe.""
"Why?""
She reached for my hand.
I pulled away.
"Don't.""
She stopped.
My father stepped between us.
"Let her explain.""
I looked at him.
"How long have you known?""
"Eight years.""
Eight years.
My grandmother had been alive for eight years.
And I had spent every birthday, every Christmas, every Mother's Day believing she was gone.
She began crying.
"I had to disappear.""
"Why?""
"Because Frank found out I had copies of the original documents.""
"That doesn't explain pretending to die.""
My grandmother sat down.
"Your mother was the first person they threatened. After what happened to her, I knew they would come for you next.""
I froze.
"My mother?""
My father lowered his head.
Grandma looked at him.
"Tell her, Michael.""
He closed his eyes.
"Your mother discovered that Frank was using the company to move money through false property transactions. She confronted him.""
"And?""
"She was killed in a staged accident.""
I gripped the chair.
"Who killed her?""
My father looked at me.
"We don't know who physically caused it. But we know who arranged the cover-up.""
"Frank?""
He nodded.
"And someone else.""
My grandmother reached into her handbag.
She pulled out a small photograph.
It showed my mother standing outside a restaurant with a man I didn't recognize.
On the back was a handwritten date.
Three days before her death.
My grandmother placed it in my hand.
"Your mother had discovered that someone inside the family was helping Frank.""
I looked at the photograph again.
"Who?""
My grandmother's eyes filled with tears.
"Your mother believed it was Megan's mother.""
I frowned.
"Megan's mother?""
"Yes. Helen Peterson.""
I had barely known Helen. She had died when Megan was a teenager, according to Carol.
My father continued.
"Helen was the person who originally connected Frank to the investors. She knew about the financial arrangements. She also knew what happened to your mother.""
I looked between them.
"Then why did Megan slap Lily?""
My grandmother looked down.
"Because Megan found out that Lily had seen something in the study. Something that could connect her to a secret her mother had hidden.""
"What secret?""
My grandmother took another envelope from her handbag.
Inside was a birth certificate.
The father's name was clearly printed.
*Andrew Collins.*
I stared.
"Megan's father?""
My grandmother nodded.
"Andrew Collins is not just Megan's lover.""
She took a shaky breath.
"He is her biological father.""
The room went silent.
I looked at my father.
He nodded slowly.
"Frank raised Megan as his daughter because Helen was pregnant when she married him. But the truth was hidden.""
I thought about Patricia.
The photographs.
The engagement ring.
The offshore agreement.
Everything suddenly looked much uglier.
My grandmother continued.
"And Megan knows.""
I looked at the certificate.
"Does Frank know?""
My father gave a bitter smile.
"Frank has known for years.""
"Then why did he keep her?""
My grandmother looked directly at me.
"Because Megan was never just his daughter. She was part of a business arrangement.""
I felt sick.
"What arrangement?""
Before either of them could answer, Rebecca entered the room.
She was holding her phone.
"Chloe, we have a serious problem.""
I turned.
"What now?""
"Mark has filed an emergency petition claiming you are mentally unstable and financially incapable of controlling Peterson Development.""
I stared at her.
"He can't do that.""
"He has already submitted supporting statements from Carol and Frank.""
My grandmother closed her eyes.
Then she whispered:
"He's using the last document.""
"What document?""
She looked at me.
"The one your grandmother signed before she disappeared.""
My father shook his head.
"Margaret, no.""
She reached into her handbag again.
This time, she removed a folded legal document.
At the bottom was her signature.
And beneath it was a clause that could transfer control of the entire company to Mark Peterson.
I stared at the page.
"Grandma, why would you sign this?""
May you like
She looked at me with tears in her eyes.
"Because I was trying to save your life.""
