Chapter 4: The Letter My Grandmother Hid
For several seconds, I couldn't take my eyes off the envelope.
My name was written in my grandmother's familiar handwriting, the same handwriting that had labeled every jar in her kitchen and every recipe card she'd ever given me.
But the sentence beneath it was what frightened me.
The person who betrayed me is not alone.
"Who else was involved?"" I asked.
Arthur Bennett looked toward the security officers escorting my mother away.
"That's what your grandmother wanted us to discover.""
"Then why didn't she tell me?""
"She was afraid that telling you would put you in the middle of something you weren't prepared to handle.""
I swallowed.
"She was dying. She could have trusted me.""
Arthur's expression softened.
"Perhaps she was trying to protect you.""
He handed the envelope to Patricia Lane, who examined its seal.
"This has never been opened," she confirmed.
"Your grandmother instructed us to preserve it until the conditions were met.""
"And my making those roses was enough?""
"Apparently, yes.""
I looked down at my chocolate display.
The broken pieces from my stolen cake had become the key to something my grandmother had spent months arranging.
Patricia carefully opened the envelope.
Inside were three things.
A handwritten letter.
A small brass key.
And a folded document stamped with the logo of Sterling Culinary Group.
Arthur handed me the letter.
"Read it.""
My fingers trembled as I unfolded the paper.
My dearest Evelyn,
If you are reading this, it means you have made the Carter rose without needing the complete recipe.
I always knew you would.
Your mother believes the recipes are the family's greatest inheritance. She is wrong. The recipes are only the evidence.
There is a secret agreement hidden in my old bakery office. The key enclosed will open the bottom drawer of the desk.
Do not confront Gloria alone.
And whatever happens, do not sign anything presented by your mother or your sister.
There is someone I trusted for forty years who helped Gloria steal what was mine.
I am sorry I didn't tell you sooner.
With all my love,
Grandma Rose.
I read it again.
Then a third time.
"Her old bakery office?"" I asked.
Arthur nodded.
"Rose owned a small commercial bakery on the north side of Chicago. She closed it five years ago.""
"I thought she sold it.""
"She never did.""
I looked up.
"What?""
"The property is still legally held by the Rose Carter Culinary Trust.""
I stared at him.
"There's a trust?""
"Yes. Your grandmother established it before she died.""
Patricia unfolded the second document.
It was a certificate showing the trust's ownership of a commercial property and its associated intellectual property.
At the bottom was a list of beneficiaries.
My name appeared first.
Tessa's name appeared second.
Gloria's name wasn't there.
I frowned.
"Why is Tessa listed?""
Arthur adjusted his glasses.
"That is something your grandmother may have intended to explain in the letter.""
I looked back at the final paragraph.
There was another page attached to it.
A list of dates and payments.
My grandmother had written several names beside the amounts.
Sterling Culinary Group.
Gloria Carter.
And someone named Richard Vale.
The final payment listed was $125,000.
I recognized the name immediately.
Richard Vale was my mother's older brother.
My uncle.
The same man who had served as executor of Grandma's estate.
I felt sick.
"Uncle Richard?""
Arthur nodded.
"He signed the original estate inventory.""
"But he told me there was nothing valuable in the bakery office.""
Patricia examined the document.
"That statement may be worth investigating.""
I looked at the brass key.
"Where is the bakery?""
Arthur wrote down an address.
Then he looked directly at me.
"Before you go anywhere, I want you to know that Sterling's lawyers have already contacted the competition organizers.""
"For what?""
"They're claiming ownership of the chocolate rose technique.""
I stared at him.
"They can't own something my grandmother created.""
"They're claiming Gloria transferred the rights to them.""
"But she couldn't.""
"That's precisely why the documents need to be examined.""
I slipped the letter back into its envelope.
My hands were shaking, but my voice was steady.
"Then let's go to the bakery.""
Arthur glanced at the clock.
"The final judging ceremony is in forty minutes.""
"I don't care about the ceremony.""
He studied me.
"Your chocolate roses are currently the highest-rated entry in the independent display category. You may be disqualifying yourself by leaving.""
I looked toward the cake.
Tessa was still standing beside it.
She had removed her contestant badge and was talking urgently to Patricia.
For the first time, she looked less like the golden daughter and more like someone who had just discovered that the ground beneath her feet was disappearing.
"I spent three weeks making that cake," I said.
"My mother stole it. My sister lied about it. And now someone is trying to steal my grandmother's legacy.""
I picked up the envelope.
"I think I've had enough competitions for one day.""
Arthur didn't argue.
Instead, he handed me his business card.
"Call me when you open that drawer.""
I turned toward the exit.
But before I reached the doors, someone grabbed my arm.
It was Tessa.
"Evelyn, wait.""
I looked at her hand.
She released me.
"Can we talk?""
"About what?""
She glanced toward the judges, then lowered her voice.
"Mom said something about the money.""
"What money?""
"The $75,000.""
My stomach tightened.
"What about it?""
Tessa looked toward the exit.
"She didn't get it alone.""
I stared at my sister.
"Who helped her?""
Tessa opened her mouth.
Then her phone rang.
The name on the screen was Uncle Richard.
She declined the call immediately.
I watched her face turn pale.
"What's going on, Tessa?""
She whispered four words.
"He's here. At the hotel.""
I turned around.
Near the entrance, a man in a charcoal suit was standing beside the registration desk.
Uncle Richard.
He was holding a black leather folder.
And when his eyes met mine, he didn't look surprised.
He looked furious.
"Give me the envelope, Evelyn," he said.
I tightened my grip.
"Why?""
He glanced at Tessa.
May you like
Then he said something that made my sister begin to cry.
"Because if you open that bakery drawer, you'll discover what your grandmother really thought of both of you.""
