Chapter 6: The Truth My Mother Left Behind

For twenty years, I believed I knew everything about my family.

I believed my mother’s death was the tragedy that changed everything.

I believed my father remarried because he was lonely.

I believed Patricia entered our lives because my father needed someone.

But after Felicity’s words, one thought kept repeating in my mind.

What if I was wrong?

I went home that evening and opened the old wooden box under my bed.

The box contained everything I had left from my mother.

Her letters.

Her photographs.

Her old library card.

Small pieces of a person I missed every day.

I searched through the memories until I found the thing I hadn't looked at in years.

Her journal.

I had read parts of it when I was younger.

Mostly happy memories.

Thoughts about books.

Notes about me.

But now I searched for something else.

Something about my father.

Something about Patricia.

At first, I found nothing.

Then I reached the final pages.

Near the end of her illness.

My hands trembled as I opened the journal.

The handwriting was weaker.

The words were shorter.

But one entry stopped me.

*I don't know if Jenna will understand someday. But I hope she knows I tried to protect her.*

My heart started beating faster.

I continued.

*Michael says everything will be fine. He says Patricia is only a friend. But I know there are things he isn't telling me.*

I froze.

Patricia.

A friend.

Before the marriage.

I kept reading.

*I don't want Jenna growing up believing people stay because they love you. Sometimes people stay because they need something.*

I closed my eyes.

My mother knew.

She knew something.

But what?

The next page was missing.

Torn out.

Someone had removed it.

I checked again.

The page was gone.

My phone rang.

My father.

I stared at his name.

Then answered.

“Dad.””

“Jenna.””

His voice sounded nervous.

“Where are you?””

“At home.””

A pause.

“Did you talk to Felicity?””

My heart stopped.

“How do you know?””

Another pause.

“Because she called me.””

Of course she did.

“She told you I attacked her.””

“She said you were angry.””

I laughed bitterly.

“Of course.””

“Jenna, please.””

“No.””

My voice was stronger than I expected.

“Not this time.””

Silence.

“Dad, I found Mom’s journal.””

The silence that followed was different.

Not confusion.

Fear.

“You shouldn’t have read that.””

I felt cold.

“Why?””

He didn't answer.

“Dad, what happened?””

“Your mother was sick.””

“That’s not what I asked.””

He sighed.

“Jenna…”

“No.””

I stood up.

“I spent twenty years thinking I lost my mother and then my family fell apart because life was unfair.””

My voice shook.

“But now I’m finding out everyone knew things I didn't.””

“Some things were complicated.””

“Complicated for who?””

He had no answer.

And that told me everything.

“I want the truth.””

“Jenna.””

“I deserve it.””

A long pause.

Then my father whispered:

“Come tomorrow.””

I tightened my grip on the phone.

“Why?””

“Because there are things about Patricia you don’t know.””

I closed my eyes.

The same sentence.

The same mystery.

Everyone knew something except me.

And I was done being the last person to learn the truth.

Tomorrow, I wasn't going to ask questions.

I was going to demand answers.

May you like

My Mother Fed My Sister’s Kids First — Then I Found My Father’s Secret

“Your kids can eat when they get home.”” My mother said it with a smile, like she was offering a reasonable solution instead of t...

My Daughter Heard Her Missing Brother Crying Beneath My Sister’s Floor—T...

“Daddy… Leo is crying under the floor.”” For three seconds, I forgot how to breathe. My six-year-old daughter was kneeling in th...

NO CAMERA. NO PROOF. SHE THOUGHT SHE HAD SILENCED EVERY WITNESS—UNTIL A...

The teacher had just struck a thirteen-year-old boy with a wooden ruler when I realized something terrifying: she wasn't afraid of...

Because after years of being treated like the least important person in the room…

I was finally ready to find out why.