Chapter 4: The Documents That Could Destroy Us
My father read the forged document three times.
Each time, his face grew colder.
The house was quiet except for Vanessa's laughter drifting up from downstairs. She was still on the phone, speaking in the soft, affectionate voice she used whenever she wanted someone to believe she was harmless.
Dad closed his laptop.
“Emily, listen to me carefully. Do not tell Vanessa about Rachel. Do not tell her about the camera. And whatever happens tomorrow, do not sign anything she puts in front of you.””
I stared at him.
“What are we going to do?””
“First, we're going to find out what your mother left behind.””
He looked down at the teddy bear in his hands.
For a moment, he seemed to forget I was in the room. His thumb brushed the faded blue ribbon, and his eyes filled with tears.
“Your mother bought this bear before her surgery,” he whispered.
“She told me it was a gift for your sixteenth birthday. I thought she meant the bear itself.””
I sat beside him.
“Maybe she did.””
He shook his head slowly.
“No. If Rachel is telling the truth, your mother knew something was wrong. And I was too blind to see it.””
“Dad, you couldn't have known everything.””
“I married her, Emily.””
The words came out like an accusation against himself.
“I brought her into this house. I let her move your mother's photographs. I let her make you feel like a guest in your own home.””
I reached for his hand.
“You believed she loved you.””
He looked at me.
“And she used that.””
Neither of us spoke for a while.
Then Dad stood and slipped the teddy bear into his briefcase.
“I'm going to make a call.””
He stepped into the hallway and contacted his attorney, Michael Bennett, a man who had handled our family's legal affairs for nearly twenty years. I could hear fragments of the conversation through the open door.
“Forgery.””
“Tomorrow morning.””
“No, Michael. I need you to look at this tonight.””
A pause.
Then Dad's voice hardened.
“Because if my wife is attempting to transfer control of my assets without my consent, I want to know exactly what she's done.””
He ended the call and returned to my room.
“Michael is coming here at eight tomorrow morning. Until then, we act as though nothing has changed.””
I nodded, but my stomach twisted.
“What about Vanessa?””
“Let me handle her.””
We went downstairs together.
Vanessa was standing in the living room beside the fireplace, holding a glass of red wine. She ended her phone call when she saw us.
“There you are,” she said to Dad.
“I've been waiting for you.””
Her gaze flicked toward the briefcase.
“What's that?””
“Work.””
“At this hour?””
“I have a few things to review.””
She smiled, but her eyes narrowed.
“You've been acting strangely since you came home.””
Dad placed the briefcase on the sofa.
“Long day.””
Vanessa approached him and straightened his tie.
“You know what would make tomorrow easier? If Emily moved out before breakfast. We could finally have some peace.””
I felt my hands clench.
Dad remained calm.
“Why are you so determined to get her out?””
Vanessa gave a little laugh.
“Because she's an adult, David. Adults need independence.””
“Then why did you ask her for two thousand dollars?””
“Because she refuses to contribute!””
“I pay for my own expenses,” I said.
Vanessa turned sharply.
“Did I ask you?””
“No,” I replied.
“But you keep talking about me as if I'm not standing here.””
She set her wineglass down with a loud clink.
“This is exactly what I mean. No respect. No gratitude. No understanding of how much I do for this family.””
Dad watched her carefully.
“What, exactly, do you do?””
She blinked.
“Excuse me?””
“You said you do everything for this family. Tell me what that means.””
Her expression tightened.
“I manage the house. I handle the bills. I organize the appointments. I make sure everything runs smoothly while you work.””
“And the paperwork?””
Vanessa went still.
“What paperwork?””
Dad shrugged.
“The financial documents you mentioned earlier.””
“Oh.”” She recovered quickly.
“Those are ready. I was hoping we'd review them tomorrow morning.””
“Why tomorrow?””
“Because I have an appointment with the attorney at ten.””
Dad's eyes remained on her face.
“What attorney?””
“Richard Cole. I told you about him.””
“No, you didn't.””
Vanessa's smile faltered.
“David, we've discussed this several times.””
“Have we?””
She took a step closer.
“Are you accusing me of lying?””
“No. I'm asking a question.””
For the first time since I'd known her, Vanessa seemed uncertain about what to say.
Then she looked at me.
“This is because of her, isn't it? She's been filling your head with nonsense.””
Dad didn't move.
“Emily hasn't told me anything I didn't already see.””
Vanessa's face drained of color.
“What does that mean?””
“It means I came home early.””
He let the silence stretch.
“I heard more than you think.””
Vanessa's wineglass trembled in her hand.
Then, astonishingly, she laughed.
“David, you're being ridiculous. You walked into the middle of an argument. You have no idea what happened before that.””
“Then explain it.””
She looked at me, and the hatred in her eyes was unmistakable.
“Your daughter is manipulative. She's been trying to turn you against me since the day we married.””
I stepped forward.
“I never asked you to leave. I never demanded money from you. I never hit you.””
Vanessa's mouth twisted.
“You ungrateful little—”
“Careful,” Dad interrupted.
She stopped.
For a moment, the three of us stood in the living room, surrounded by the furniture my mother had chosen and the photographs Vanessa had never managed to remove completely.
Then Vanessa drew a long breath and composed herself.
“Fine. We'll discuss this tomorrow with the attorney. Once everything is properly documented, there won't be any confusion about who has authority in this house.””
She picked up her wineglass and headed toward the stairs.
At the first step, she turned.
“Oh, and Emily?””
I met her gaze.
“Pack your things tonight. I won't have you embarrassing me in front of a lawyer.””
Dad's voice cut through the room.
“She isn't going anywhere.””
Vanessa froze.
“What?””
“You heard me.””
Her eyes darted between us.
Then she gave Dad a smile so cold it made my skin crawl.
“Of course, darling. Whatever you say.””
She climbed the stairs.
A bedroom door slammed moments later.
Dad waited until the sound faded before turning to me.
“She knows something is wrong.””
“What if she destroys the evidence?””
“She doesn't know what evidence we have.””
He retrieved his briefcase and opened it.
The teddy bear lay inside.
Carefully, Dad removed the tiny camera and connected it to his laptop.
A folder appeared on the screen.
Dozens of video files were listed by date.
He clicked the most recent one.
The kitchen appeared on the screen.
Vanessa stood in front of me, holding the handwritten $2,000 demand.
Then came the slap.
I flinched at the sound.
Dad's jaw tightened so hard I thought he might crack a tooth.
But the video continued.
Vanessa leaned toward me and said something that made Dad stop breathing.
“If David ever finds out what happened to his first wife, neither of us will have a future.””
Dad slowly turned toward me.
“What did she mean by that?””
I stared at the screen.
My mother had died after a long illness. That was what we'd always been told. There had been hospital visits, treatments, and endless nights when Dad held my hand and told me she was fighting as hard as she could.
But Vanessa had married Dad years after my mother's death.
How could she know something about it that we didn't?
Dad replayed the sentence.
Then he opened another recording.
The timestamp was from three weeks earlier.
Vanessa was alone in the kitchen, speaking on the phone.
“It's almost finished,” she said.
“Once he signs, I'll have everything I need.””
A pause.
Then she laughed.
“No, Richard. Emily won't be a problem. She'll be out of the house before she even realizes what she's lost.””
Dad stopped the video.
He looked as though someone had punched him.
“Richard Cole,” he whispered.
“That's the attorney she's meeting tomorrow,” I said.
Dad nodded slowly.
Then another voice came through the laptop speakers.
Vanessa's voice.
“There's just one thing I still need to find. The letter Margaret left behind.””
Dad's hand froze over the keyboard.
Margaret.
My mother's name.
Vanessa continued speaking on the recording.
“If that girl ever finds it, everything could fall apart.””
Dad closed the laptop with a sharp snap.
He looked at me, his eyes filled with a fear I'd never seen before.
“Emily, do you know what letter she's talking about?””
I shook my head.
But as I did, I remembered something.
A small wooden box my mother had kept in the bottom drawer of her old writing desk.
A box Vanessa had demanded we throw away after she moved into the house.
I had refused.
May you like
I'd hidden it in the attic.
And suddenly, I knew exactly where we needed to look.
