Chapter 5: My Fiancé Had Been Keeping Two Families Apart
Marcus placed the wooden jewelry box on the table.
The same box that had contained Grandma's letters.
Its brass hinges were scratched, and one corner had been damaged.
I stared at him.
“You took it.””
Marcus loosened his tie.
“I was trying to protect you.””
I laughed.
It was the ugliest sound I'd ever made.
“From what? The truth?””
He glanced at my father.
“Richard, I thought you said she hadn't found Daniel.””
My father looked furious.
“She wasn't supposed to.””
Daniel stepped forward.
“Get out of my house.””
Marcus ignored him.
“Olivia, please. Just listen.””
I pointed at the box.
“Open it.””
“It's not that simple.””
“Open it, Marcus.””
He slowly lifted the lid.
Inside were several folded letters, a small velvet pouch, and a silver key.
Grandma's handwriting covered the envelopes.
Some were addressed to me.
Others were addressed to Vanessa.
I reached for the first one.
Marcus caught my wrist.
“Don't.””
I pulled away.
“Touch me again, and I'll scream loud enough for the entire street to hear.””
He stepped back.
I picked up the letter addressed to Vanessa.
The date was written in the corner.
Six months before Grandma died.
I opened it.
My darling Vanessa,
I know you believe I chose Olivia over you. I know you think I gave her the dress because I loved her more.
That was never true.
I gave Olivia the dress because she was the only one who could safely carry what I had hidden inside it.
You were always my granddaughter, and Daniel has always been your father.
But there is something neither of you knows about Olivia.
I stopped reading.
My hands were shaking so badly that Rachel would have needed to hold the paper for me.
I continued.
Your mother, Margaret, did not give birth to Olivia. She raised her as her own because she promised me she would.
I looked up.
Everyone was silent.
I read the sentence again.
My mother had not given birth to me.
The room seemed to shrink.
I turned toward Daniel.
“Who is my mother?””
His eyes filled with tears.
He looked at my father.
Then at the letter.
“Eleanor wanted you to learn this from the person who could prove it.””
“Who?””
He didn't answer.
Marcus finally spoke.
“Your mother is Helen.””
The name hit me like a physical blow.
Helen.
My godmother.
The woman who had died when I was young.
The woman who supposedly helped my grandmother care for me during my childhood.
I stared at Marcus.
“How do you know that?””
He reached into his jacket and removed a document.
It was an original hospital record.
My birth date.
My birth weight.
My biological mother's name.
*Helen Carter.*
I gripped the edge of the table.
“No. Helen was Grandma's best friend.””
“She was also your biological mother,” Daniel said.
I turned toward him.
“You knew?””
He shook his head.
“Not the whole truth. Eleanor told me she had arranged for you to be raised by Margaret and Richard. I believed she meant they had adopted you.””
My father rubbed his forehead.
“That's exactly what happened.””
I looked at him.
“Then why did you tell me Margaret gave birth to me?””
“Because we didn't want you questioning your place in the family.””
“Who was my father?””
Nobody spoke.
I looked at Marcus.
“Who was my father?””
He lowered his eyes.
My father finally answered.
“Your biological father was my older brother.””
I couldn't breathe.
“Your brother?””
“Yes. Thomas.””
I remembered the old photographs in Grandma's hallway.
A man with dark hair and a warm smile.
My father had once told me Thomas died in a car accident before I was born.
I had never met him.
“Thomas was Helen's husband?””
My father nodded.
“He died before you were born. Helen couldn't raise you alone. Margaret and I had just lost a pregnancy. Eleanor arranged for you to come home with us.””
My mind raced.
“So Margaret isn't my biological mother. Richard isn't my biological father. But they raised me.””
“Yes.””
“And Vanessa is Daniel's daughter.””
“Yes.””
“Then why did Grandma hide all of this?””
Daniel answered.
“Because Eleanor discovered that Richard was using the adoption arrangements to manipulate the inheritance.””
My father snapped.
“That's enough.””
Daniel continued.
“Your grandmother's estate wasn't supposed to go entirely to Richard. Thomas had a share in the family company, and that share was supposed to pass to you.””
I looked at the document.
“What share?””
“Forty percent.””
My father went pale.
Marcus leaned against the table.
“And Vanessa was supposed to inherit the remaining family trust.””
I turned toward him.
“You knew about this?””
He nodded.
“Not everything.””
“How long?””
“About eight months.””
Eight months.
We had been engaged for six.
He had known before proposing.
I felt something inside me break.
“You pursued me because of the inheritance.””
Marcus rubbed his jaw.
“At first, yes.””
I stared at him.
He continued quickly.
“But then I fell in love with you.””
“Don't.””
“Olivia—”
“Don't insult me by pretending you know what love is.””
He looked genuinely hurt.
For a moment, I almost believed him.
Then I remembered the ruined dress.
The missing letters.
His messages telling me not to embarrass him.
I turned toward the jewelry box.
There was a small envelope beneath the velvet pouch.
Unlike the others, it had no name.
Only a handwritten warning.
Read this only when all four people are present.
I looked around the room.
Me.
Daniel.
My father.
Marcus.
Four people.
I opened it.
Inside was a single sheet of paper and a tiny flash drive.
The letter began:
To the four people who will eventually stand together when the truth can no longer be hidden.
Richard, you know what you did.
Daniel, you know what you lost.
Marcus, you know what you were paid to conceal.
And Olivia, you deserve to know that the story of your birth was only the beginning.
I stopped.
The next paragraph was underlined three times.
The night Thomas died, he did not die alone.
I looked at my father.
His face had turned almost gray.
“What does this mean?””
He reached for the letter.
Daniel blocked him.
“Let her finish.””
I read the final lines.
The police report was altered.
The insurance payment was divided.
And the person who arranged the accident has spent thirty years pretending to be your father.
The paper slipped from my fingers.
My father took one step backward.
I whispered, “Who arranged it?””
Daniel looked at him.
Marcus looked at him.
And my father finally spoke.
“Your grandmother was losing her mind when she wrote that.””
Then he turned toward Marcus.
“Give me the flash drive.””
Marcus didn't move.
“Richard,” he said, “I think it's time you stopped telling people what to do.””
For the first time, my fiancé wasn't standing beside my father.
May you like
He was standing against him.
And I had no idea which one of them was more dangerous.
